New Ages
by GriffinSky
Summary: A story of reconstruction, because a world turned upside down cannot right itself in a day. Percy realizes this as he tries to deal with family, politics, and an investigation into ongoing Death Eater activities. Sequel to Proving Them Wrong.
1. Phases of Life

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: Okay! So some people have asked for a sequel, so I've decided I'll write one! It's going to include extensions of some of the descriptions in the epilogue of PTW, as well as events after the war. I don't know how much time I'll have to write but I'm going to try to update this story as much as possible. It'll have lots of Percy and Audrey, and lots of Weasleys. _

Chapter 1

The hearing was just a simple formality, everyone had assured him. Every employee who had been involved with the muggle-born persecutions and wished to stay on at the Ministry had to go through it. Hell, even the Minister himself—Kingsley Shacklebolt—had pulled him aside a few days ago and told him not to worry about it, that he would be without a doubt cleared immediately.

But that didn't ease the sick fear that was making Percy's stomach twist and turn and sweat form on his unnaturally gray skin as he sat on the hard wooden bench outside one of the smaller courtrooms.

And it _was _a very small courtroom, barely more than a broom closet, really, with only a few Wizengamot members. Percy was grateful for that. If it had been a bigger room, perhaps even one where the defendants were bound in chains, he doubted he have been able to work up the courage to even sit outside of it.

Percy wrapped his cloak tighter around his body, shivering. He was on the lowest floor of the Ministry, and it wasn't heated very well. The cold was seeping through to his skin.

_You know, _Percy was thinking as the seconds ticked by, waiting for the courtroom door to open, _maybe I do deserve a guilty verdict. I did watch so many innocent muggle-borns go to Azkaban…I couldn't save all of them, so I sat by and let good people suffer…maybe I do deserve to go to prison for that…_

He was jolted forcibly from his thoughts as the wide metal door swung open, clanging loudly against the wall. A man in red robes stumbled out, hurrying away down the corridor, his footsteps reverberating on the stone. Percy remained huddled on his bench, watching the door with wide eyes.

Percy heard a tired, deep voice resound from inside the courtroom. "The next person on the docket… Percy Ignatius Weasley."

There was a slight murmuring, no doubt because of the Weasley name. Everyone would be wondering what the brother of the Harry Potter's right hand man, Ron Weasley, was doing in court for crimes against muggle-borns.

A head popped out of the courtroom, and Percy was startled to see it belonged to a young man who was probably barely older than Ron. His mousy brown hair was cut short and painfully neat and he was wearing the robes of a courtroom scribe. Percy was suddenly reminded of himself, back in the days when he worked under Fudge.

"They are ready for you, sir," the boy said quietly before hurrying back inside, nearly losing his grip on the scroll of parchment he was carrying. _Maybe, _Percy mused as he followed the boy, his fear subsiding a bit, _I can teach him a few things. _He had learned many little tricks to survive the scribe job; how a well-trained Quick-Quotes Quill never hurt, and how a Recording spell was good for getting a record of details you wouldn't otherwise remember.

Percy walked slowly around the courtroom, lowering himself into the chair. He stared up at the panel above him. There were three Wizengamot members plus the scribe, who was hurriedly laying out his scroll and trying to ink his quill. Percy watched as he splattered ink on his nose.

"Welcome, Mr. Weasley." The Wizengamot member sitting in the middle of the panel, a small man with bushy gray eyebrows and reading glasses settled on his nose, spoke without even looking up from the parchment he was reading. "I am Teiresias Pertinax, and I'll be conducting your review." Immediately, Percy heard the scratching of a quill as the scribe began to take notes. "Just answer the questions truthfully, Mr. Weasley, and you'll be out of here quickly."

Percy nodded. Pertinax opened his mouth, about to ask the first question, when one of the other Wizengamot members frowned and got to their feet, glaring menacingly down at Percy. He felt himself pale under the man's dark gaze.

"Teiresias," the man hissed, and Percy recognized the deep voice which had called his name off the docket. "I'm detecting a magical concealment charm that the defendant is casting on himself."

Pertinax's bushy eyebrows shot up. "Is this true?" he asked sharply.

Percy felt himself go even paler. "No! I—" he broke off, realizing that he did have a concealment charm on himself—one to cover the scars. Casting it every morning had become second nature to him, the same as putting on his cloak or shoes. He had forgotten that such charms weren't allowed in magical court. "Yes, sir, it is true. I apologize. I'll—I'll remove it." Percy pulled his wand out of his pocket, waving it over his face and muttering the incantation. He winced in discomfort as the magical sparks danced over the painful scars, stinging and smarting.

All the Wizengamot members stared at him. "Are those dragon fire burns?" the third one, a portly woman with dark brown hair, asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied meekly, trying not to scratch at his face.

"I see…" Pertinax checked something on his parchment before returning his gaze to Percy. "It says here that your brother works with dragons, did you receive those burns while visiting him?"

"Uh…no, sir."

Pertinax gave him a calculating look before saying, "Very well, then." He looked back down at his parchment. "Full name?" he inquired.

"Percy Ignatius Weasley," Percy answered, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Where did you go to school, and what is your level of education?" Pertinax continued, a tone to his voice that suggested he asked the same questions a hundred times that day.

"I attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sir, and received my N.E.W.T.'s there."

"And what was your position at the time of the incidents, Mr. Weasley?"

"Junior Undersecretary to the Minister, sir."

"I see." Pertinax finally looked up from the parchment, taking off his reading glasses and settling his gaze on Percy, who squirmed uncomfortably. "Now, Mr. Weasley, do you know why you are here today, in this courtroom?"

"Well…" Percy shifted in his chair, throat inexplicably dry. "I was owled and_ told_ to come here, sir," he replied, and immediately cursed himself for giving such a stupid answer. He felt his cheeks go red.

But Pertinax was chuckling softly. "That is the best answer to that question I've heard all day." He again lifted parchment to eye level, as if to check the next question. But then he slapped it down to the table. He turned to the scribe. "You can take a break, Mr. Lawrence," he said firmly, not taking his gaze off the scribe until the boy had reluctantly laid his quill down. Pertinax then looked back at Percy. "Would you mind if we went off book, Mr. Weasley?"

Percy hesitated for a second, wondering what the wizard's intentions were, and then replied, "Not at all, sir." He glanced at the scribe, who was looking confused and a little frightened. Percy bit back a smile in spite of his own discomfort.

"Excellent." Pertinax set the parchment aside, leaning back in his chair and pressing the fingertips of his two hands together. "You know, Mr. Weasley," he continued after a moment of silence, "I've seen a lot of scumbags come through this courtroom, and you're nothing like any of them."

"Uh… thank you, sir?" Percy responded, the statement coming out more like a question than anything else.

"I've been going over the papers, Mr. Weasley, for all the muggle-borns whose cases you were assigned to work on, and those who passed through the courts while you were at work."

Percy ran a hand anxiously through his bright red hair, honestly wondering what was coming next.

"I've noticed more than a few discrepancies, as I'm sure you're not surprised to hear. Papers going missing, previously unknown magical relatives suddenly being discovered, muggle-borns making impossible escapes…"

Percy swallowed and watched with wide eyes as the other members of the panel, who had been murmuring to each other, stopped and looked at Pertinax and then at him, obviously bemused.

"You know, ever since we put your name on the public docket, Mr. Weasley, we've had character references for you pouring in."

Percy blinked in surprise at Pertinax's odd statement. "Character references?" he echoed. "From whom?"

"A surprising variety of people, actually," Pertinax replied. "Penelope Clearwater, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Kingsley Shacklebolt…even Aberforth Dumbledore sent something in, and the vast majority of us didn't even know he could _write_."

Percy couldn't help but smile at this.

"What I'm trying to get at here, Mr. Weasley, is that you are most certainly not getting a guilty verdict from this court. A medal, maybe, an Order of Merlin when all the dust settles, but not a punishment. Certainly not."

Percy closed his eyes in relief for a second, but jerked them open in shock as he heard a loud _thunk! _He saw Pertinax lift a stamp up from his parchment. "You are dismissed, Mr. Weasley, and cleared of all charges." Pertinax gave him a sly smile before slipping his reading glasses back on his nose and picking up the next piece of parchment. "Mr. Lawrence, will you make note of the verdict and retrieve the next defendant, please?"

Percy got up, still slightly in a relieved daze as the scribe leapt up and frantically scrawled on his notes. Percy, remembering how hard it was not being appreciated in his job at this boy's age, commented, "Good notes," to Lawrence as he walked by.

Percy smiled as he heard the boy's garbled "T—thank you." He walked out of the courtroom and into the corridor, briefly making eye contact with the man who had taken his position on the bench outside. Smoothing his hair down and casting the familiar concealment charms over his face (because he wasn't sure he was ready to deal with all the questions they would bring), Percy kept on walking.

When he rounded the corner of the corridor, out of earshot, Percy raised his fist into the air and let out a quiet whoop. He was free—he could go back to work now. Percy turned and was about to head to the lifts when a sudden scream behind him made him tense and reach automatically for his wand.

"NOOO!"

Percy whipped around and then slammed himself against the wall as he caught sight of two Aurors who were half-dragging, half-carrying none other than Dolores Umbridge, who was frothing with rage. He blinked in shock.

"UNHAND ME, YOU FIENDS! YOU FLITHY MUDBLOODS! UNHAND ME!"

Several other Aurors and Wizengamot members were following in a somber procession behind Umbridge and her guards. "Ms. Umbridge," one of them said stiffly. "You have been found guilty of crimes against muggle-borns. You are going to spend the next twenty years in Azkaban. No amount of struggling will change this."

Percy felt rage boil up in his chest as he watched the wizards try to drag the struggling toad-like woman down the corridor. He knew that the world wasn't divided into good people and Death Eaters, and that Umbridge wasn't the former or the latter. She was just an unlikeable woman who'd been willing to sacrifice any of her values that got in the way of her lust for power. But somehow, that made Percy hate her all the more.

He pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it squarely at her head, moving it to follow her as she struggled. "Need some help with that?" he asked one of the Aurors savagely. "She'd be a lot easier to handle if she were unconscious."

"Or transfigured into a sea urchin, right?" Percy's gaze snapped to the Auror who had spoken, a blond man with a small grin on his face and arms folded in front of his chest.

"Excuse me?" Percy shot back, frowning.

"What, aren't you Percy Weasley?"

"Yes, I am."

"And aren't you the one turned Pius Thicknesse into a sea urchin during the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"Yes…I suppose…" Percy replied, confused. _He_ still had trouble remembering some parts of that night; he had no idea how some random Auror would know about that…

"Apparently they _still_ haven't been able to get the spikes off that guy." The Auror chuckled and cast a stunner on Umbridge. Percy watched from his position against the wall as the procession moved on, this time dragging Umbridge's unconscious body, off to Azkaban where she belonged.

Percy stood there for a few seconds after they had disappeared, reviewing the Auror's and Pertinax's words in his head and rolling around the idea that maybe now he was actually known for something that didn't involve his brothers, or messing up, or cauldron bottoms.

Making a mental note to thank Audrey for teaching him that spell (and to ask her if there was counterjinx) Percy strolled back up to the Atrium, where he would receive his new assignment.

* * *

_Don't worry—Audrey will be in the next chapter, and all the Weasleys in the one after that. _


	2. Firecall

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

Chapter 2

There was a familiar, comforting bustle in the Atrium as Percy stepped out of the lift, doors clanging shut behind him. People were rushing back and forth across the floor, others bursting from the flames in the fireplaces and apparating and disapparating easily from the room, now that the restrictions had been lifted and the toilet entries were no longer mandatory.

But today there was an even larger crowd than normal, just standing around in a big clump, and Percy soon saw why.

The infamous 'Magic is Might' was finally coming down.

They had tried to remove the hateful statue from the Ministry the day that Voldemort had been vanquished, but the Death Eaters had put powerful spells on it that made it nearly impossible to move. It seemed that they had finally found a way to get rid of it, by cutting out small slabs of the black marble and crushing them individually. Percy saw with satisfaction that they had started with removing the witch and wizard's malice filled faces. Cheers rose from the crowd every time a new cut of marble fell to the floor.

"It's great, isn't it?" Percy turned around with a grin on his face at the familiar voice. Audrey stood at his side, smiling back at him. Percy inspected her face for a moment; her skin was abnormally pale, and there were faint shadows of sleep deprivation on her face, but her hazel eyes were bright with spirit and her dark curly hair was bouncing with life. And Merlin, just seeing her face in any condition made Percy's day a thousand times better.

"Most definitely," he replied, taking her hand and lacing her fingers with hers. He stared into Audrey's eyes for a moment, and then turned back to the scene where Magical Maintenance was dismantling the statue. "Do you think they'll put the old one back up?" Percy wondered aloud, remembering the great stone witch, wizard, centaur, goblin and house-elf he used to walk past every day.

Audrey's nose wrinkled with distaste. "I hope not. I only saw that thing a few times, but I _hated_ it. Centaurs and goblins would rather die painfully than look at humans like that, and if you ask me the wizard and witch looked more like Gilderoy Lockhart and a potential trophy wife than anything else."

"That's an interesting perspective. I never thought of it like that."

They both jumped around at the deep voice, but it was only Kingsley Shacklebolt, smiling with amusement at them. Percy felt his face and neck go red.

"Oh. M-Minister, hello, s-sir," Percy stammered, and only Audrey's hand darting up and firmly grasping the back of his robes kept him from bowing.

Kingsley chuckled. "I think 'Kingsley' will suffice, Percy," he said. "None of this 'Minister' stuff, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Percy mumbled, tugging his robes out of Audrey's grip.

"Did you already go to your hearing?" the tall man questioned, and Percy nodded.

"Hearing?" Audrey cut in, sounding surprised. "For what?"

"I'll explain later," Percy muttered to her before turning back to the Minister. "Yes, sir, and I was cleared of all charges," he continued, trying to ignore the crawling of his skin under Audrey's intense inquisitive stare.

"Of course you were, Percy, I hope you weren't worried. So," Kingsley added, scratching his head, "you two don't think we should put the old statue back up?"

Percy sighed, readjusting his glasses as he considered. "It seems that both statues represented the arrogance of wizards, even if the latter was a bit more… primal in nature."

Kingsley nodded, looking thoughtful. "Well, I guess we'll just have to think of something new to put here, won't we?" He scratched the side of his head, a tiny smile gracing his face when a huge cheer rose from the mob as a large cut of black marble slammed to the ground. "Anyway, Percy, you've been transferred."

"Transferred?" Percy echoed, a slight thrill of panic running through his chest. To where? A terrible image of himself sitting in a tiny office in the Centaur Liaison Office flashed through his head.

"Just until all we get the Ministry stabilized. You're going to head a new department."

"Really, sir?" A _new_ department? And he was going to lead it? That didn't sound so bad...

"Here are your new assignments and office number," Kingsley continued, handing Percy a thick file. "And Audrey, I'm still working on getting you a temporary job."

Percy blinked in shock. "You're going to work here, at the Ministry?" he asked Audrey.

"Oh, yes," Kingsley replied, dark eyes sparkling with humor. "To help us work some of the corruption out of the system. She did a number on the American Government of Magic, without even being paid!"

Kingsley laughed, bid them goodbye and then walked out of the Atrium. Percy turned back to Audrey.

"So you're going to work at the Ministry?" he asked excitedly.

Audrey shrugged. "Maybe, but it's for a good cause, right?" Then she frowned. "Now, what's this about a hearing? Since when are _you_ up on any crimes?"

"It's nothing, just a formality that everyone involved with the muggle persecutions had to go through," Percy said quickly. "They convicted Umbridge," he added as an afterthought. "Guilty on all counts."

Audrey's face took on an uncharacteristically angry look. "Good! I hope she got life in prison, the bitch."

"She only got twenty years," Percy responded savagely. "But knowing her, she'll be dead after ten years in Azkaban." He was surprised by the sadistic pleasure the statement gave him.

They fell into silence for a few minutes, and Percy tried to shake his anger off as he squeezed Audrey's hand slightly, smiling at her.

"Well," he murmured softly, "I hope you didn't come all the way down here just to see me. I have to go back to work, you know." Percy was surprised to find that he was actually disappointed about that; he finally found something he'd rather do than work. "There's so much to be done…"

"I know," Audrey replied, with a hint of tiredness. "I just came to talk to you about a few things."

"All right…"

"Okay, first of all, I found us a great flat."

"Brilliant!" Percy grinned. He'd been sleeping in the Ministry-provided refugee housing for the past few weeks, seeing as his old flat had been destroyed. And since he and Audrey had practically been living together since her building was demolished, they'd quietly made the decision to officially move in together.

"Oh, yes, you'll love it. It's really close to the Ministry, so if you ever don't feel like apparating, you can just walk. And it's got a bunch of great people living near it. It's in muggle London—"

"Wait," Percy interrupted nervously, "_muggle_ London? I never lived in muggle London…"

Audrey rolled her eyes. "Come on, Perce, it'll be fine."

"But…how would we pay? We'd need muggle money, wouldn't we?"

"I'll handle all the conversions and the rent payment."

Percy ran a hand through his hair uncertainly. "All right, then…"

"Excellent. I'll sign the contract; we'll probably be able to move in tonight!" She smiled happily, but then as she reached into her pocket and pulled something out, her face became more serious. "And I think this belongs to you," she continued slowly.

Percy frowned a bit as she handed him a folded up piece of yellowed parchment. He pulled it open, recognizing it immediately. The list.

The stupid list he'd started that morning when the world was beginning to right itself again. He'd scrawled what felt like a thousand names of the fallen on that list, and then a week or two ago he'd handed it off to Audrey as she went around and talked to her friends from the Underground. He scanned the new entries she'd made, refusing to let his eyes revert up to the top of the page where he knew Fred's name would be shakily written. But even so, his heart throbbed every time his eyes hit a vaguely familiar name. But he then noticed the lack of a familiar name, too.

No Ayden Carter. Audrey steadfastly refused to believe that he was dead, even though, with every mounting day, it seemed less and less likely that he was going to turn up alive.

Percy tried to find something, anything to distract himself from these morbid thoughts. "What—what did you use to fill this out?" he questioned finally, noting the odd coloring and consistency of the ink she'd put on the list.

Audrey heaved a comically heavy sigh. "It's ballpoint pen, Perce." She rolled her eyes again. "Seriously, I don't know what's with all you British wizards. In America, we only ever used quills if we were writing term papers, or if we were bored or something."

Percy shook his head. "Whatever you say, Audrey," he replied condescendingly. Then he smiled again, apologetically. "I'm really sorry, but I should get to work."

"I understand. I should get back to the Magical Creature Reserve, anyway." She backed towards the nearest fireplace, waving. "I'll come get you at, like, six?"

Percy considered that for a second. "No, I'll still be working. How about eight? Or maybe nine. Actually, ten would probably be better, seeing as—"

"Six it is!" Audrey called back, grinning as she disappeared in a roaring of green flames.

Percy, unable to keep a smile off his face, turned and reentered the lifts, ready to go to his new job and assignments.

* * *

The new office was smaller than his last one, Percy noticed immediately, and that was disappointing. He hated to think that he'd been demoted.

_At least _this_ office doesn't mean that I'm at the beck and call of an incompetent idiot, or a Death Eater puppet. _

No, in this office Percy was his very own department (and apparently he was going to get employees!). He was his own immediate superior, and his specialized, temporary department was designated to take up any tasks necessary to rebuild the wizarding community.

And today's task was to repeal every new act put in place under Thicknesse's reign. It was common sense that such laws needed to be disposed of, but since every new law was automatically magically entered into all law files, getting rid of them required some complex magic as well as bureaucratic know-how. It was a huge honor, really, to be trusted with such a job.

But it was depressing work, rereading the laws that had been passed, and so Percy was glad for a distraction when a head popped into his fireplace a few hours later.

"Mum?" Percy asked in surprise, nearly falling off his chair in his haste to kneel in front of the fireplace. He stared into the flames at his mother's face.

She looked tired, and careworn. Percy noticed guiltily that her hair was by far more gray now than it had been three years ago. There were more wrinkles between her eyes and she seemed skinnier than Percy remembered.

But for now, at least, Mrs. Weasley was wearing a smile, and her brown eyes were twinkling, even if she looked a little worn out. "Oh _Percy_, dear," she fussed, "look at you, you're so thin! Do you ever eat?" Before Percy could answer, she continued, "My firecall was rerouted through half the Ministry's offices, they had such trouble finding you!"

Percy smiled. "Well, we're still rather disorganized at this point, Mum. But," he added pompously, puffing his chest out, "I'm the head of my very own department!" _She doesn't need to know that I'm the only person in it…_

Mrs. Weasley beamed at him, and Percy felt pride bubble up inside him. "Oh, that's my little boy!" she said happily. "I'm so proud of you."

"How are things going, Mum?" Percy asked her. He knew that his mum was doing some work helping rebuild Hogwarts, but was also spending a lot of time at the Burrow, which had become a hub of sorts for all Order members to pass through, or to get a home cooked meal.

"Well, that's why I contacted you." Molly's smile became a little sadder. "I've finally managed to wrangle all your siblings and your father together to come have dinner, and I was hoping you would come join us. It would be the first time we've all gotten together since…" her voice trailed off.

Since Fred's funeral. And that had been… three weeks ago? Percy tried to swallow the lump rising in his throat, unsuccessfully. He took in his mum's appearance, the sadness in his face, and he knew he couldn't say no to her, no matter how much work he had to do. After so long away from home, he owed her every dinner in the world, at the very least.

"Of course I'll come, Mum," he responded immediately. "Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Well, actually…" Mrs. Weasley's eyes twinkled mischievously. "I was wondering if you could bring that girl of yours."

Percy straightened his spine immediately, blinking owlishly behind his glasses. "Excuse me, Mother?"

"Audrey, wasn't it?" Molly continued, ignoring his outburst. "We met her at Hogwarts, but she hasn't been around since."

Percy sighed internally. Yes, she hadn't been around. Percy knew he couldn't begrudge her for it, but Audrey had been traipsing all over Europe, bringing muggle-borns out of hiding. Their meeting in the Atrium had been the first in weeks.

Percy wondered vaguely if Audrey would mind coming to the Burrow for dinner. Probably not. He suspected that she'd fit right into the family banter. "Okay, Mum. I'll ask her." Mrs. Weasley beamed at him. "She was planning on coming here at six, so we'll come over to the Burrow around that time. Is that all right?"

"That will be perfect!" Mrs. Weasley said happily. "Harry and Hermione are coming too, and some other Order members. And Andromeda is bringing Teddy!"

Percy smiled and nodded at her exclamations, until they exchanged goodbyes a few minutes later and Percy sat back on the floor of his new office, thinking.

He hadn't seen much of his family since Fred's funeral. They were in contact, of course, and on good terms for the first time in years, but they were all so busy with their various efforts they still weren't talking very often, just quick hellos when they crossed paths.

_Well, no more of that, _Percy told himself sternly, _tonight you'll see them again, and introduce them properly to Audrey. _

But that would bring up a lot of questions he wasn't sure he was going to be able to answer… about how they had met…what they had been doing…

Percy swallowed nervously, adjusting the owl pin he had taken to wearing on the front of his robes. Keeping it on his person was unnecessary now, he supposed, since the war was over, but it had become such a habit Percy was pretty sure he'd be carrying it with him for the rest of his life.

After a few more moments of consternation, Percy realized how unprofessional he must look, sitting on the floor as he was. He quickly rose, dusted the ash from his robes and sat back at his desk.

He checked the small clock set into the wall. 3 o'clock. Three hours until Audrey would come.

* * *

Three hours later Percy packed up his papers into his briefcase and hurried down to the Atrium. It was still bustling, and there was still a small crowd around the crew deconstructing the Magic is Might statue. Percy was impressed to see they were almost done. The Atrium seemed unusually big without any gigantic display within it.

He stood there awkwardly, waiting for Audrey to come, until finally he saw her familiar figure step out of one of the fireplaces. Waving, he caught her attention. She looked surprised.

"Perce!" she called out, rushing over and hugging him. "I thought I was going to have to drag you out of your office. And here you are, willingly coming with me?" She punched him lightly in the arm. "I'm shocked."

Percy smiled sheepishly, compulsively straightening his glasses. "Well…actually…I, um…"

Audrey blinked up at him. "What is it, Percy? Spit it out!"

"My Mum fire-called my office, okay?" he burst out, feeling his face go red. Audrey cocked her head to the side.

"Okay," Audrey echoed immediately, face a mask of mock-seriousness.

"She wanted me to come to the Burrow today for dinner, and, uh… she wanted you to come too," Percy said uncertainly, shuffling his feet.

Audrey's eyes lit up suddenly. "Really?"

"Yes..." Percy swallowed nervously. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, don't be stupid," Audrey said, shaking her head. "Of course I want to!" Percy let out a breath of relief, but all that relief dissolved as Audrey smiled mischievously. "A night at the Weasleys? Sounds dangerous," she quipped.

"You say that as a joke," Percy grumbled, "but you have no idea how true it is."


	3. Coming Home

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: This chapter was kind of difficult to write, because every Weasley has their own unique character and they were hard to capture. So…sorry if any of the characters seem, well, out of character._

Chapter 3

Audrey and Percy disapparated and appeared a second later on the road in front of the Burrow. Percy remembered how they had stood together here three weeks ago and plotted the new course for Fred's funeral.

The air was warm and there was a slight breeze rustling the green leaves on the trees as they walked up to the door of the Burrow. Percy could hear talk and laughter coming from inside. He stared at the familiar, crooked house—it still was as he remembered it, still looked more like a bunch of mismatched rooms stuck haphazardly together than anything else. Four of the five chimneys protruding from the roofs were lazily puffing smoke, and Percy vaguely wondered what his Mum was thinking, making fires in the summer. Probably, she was trying to be welcoming, to be kind.

Audrey slipped her hand into his and tried to step forward, but Percy didn't move. Audrey tugged on his hand, frowning, but he still didn't yield. "Percy," she asked, "what are you doing?"

Percy stared with wide eyes at the Burrow, his feet stubbornly refusing to move. Panic was rising in his chest. "I…I can't," he finally said, stumbling backward, away from the house of his childhood.

Audrey turned to face him. "Can't what?"

Percy stared past her shoulder at the Burrow, where undoubtedly every living member of his family would be preparing to sit down for supper. "I can't face them, Audrey," he finally whispered.

The confusion melted from Audrey's face immediately. She sighed. "Percy, you already have faced them. At the battle, at your brother's…funeral, remember?"

Percy shook his head, cold sweat beading on his forehead while he rubbed his clammy hands together anxiously. "That's not the same. Everyone thought they were going to die before the battle, and at Fred's funeral everyone was too emotional to register what was going on, really." He fixed his gaze on the Burrow again. "I'm going to walk in there, and they're going to remember how much of a prat I was and how much they hate me and I'll never be able to come home again."

He stopped talking, realizing that he had been babbling out some of his deepest insecurities. Almost fearfully, Percy looked back at Audrey, to gauge her reaction. But before his eyes reached her face, he felt a sharp pain in his ear and he doubled over with a groan. It took him nearly a minute to realize that Audrey had punched him. Not slapped, like Lynn has done on occasion when he spoke badly about himself. _Punched. _

"Don't be such an _idiot_, Percy," she snapped at him, grabbing the front of his robes and dragging him upright again. "They are _not_ going to think that. That's not going to happen!"

Percy looked at her helplessly. "But how can you be sure?"

"Because I know you," Audrey answered immediately. "And I know a little something about family. So let's go inside now, because I'm seriously hungry and it's not going to be long before someone notices us standing out here like a couple of idiots."

Percy finally nodded, and it took him a few seconds to steel his nerves before he walked up to the Burrow's front door, Audrey at his side, her hand placed reassuringly on his arm. He raised a trembling hand and knocked.

It was only a few seconds before the door swung open and Mrs. Weasley stepped up to stand in the doorway. "Hello, Mum," Percy said, doing his best to smile at her.

But Molly Weasley wasn't having any similar reservations. She beamed and burst out immediately, "Percy! My baby!"

Before Percy could so much as respond, he was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug that left him bruised and gasping for breath when he was released. "And Audrey!" Mrs. Weasley beamed, turning to face her.

"Yes, it's wonderf—" Percy watched with slight amusement as his Mum pulled an unsuspecting and astonished Audrey into her arms. His mum stepped away after a few seconds and Audrey fell back, casting a bewildered look at Percy, who shrugged in response.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you properly, Audrey, I can't wait to hear all about you! Come in, come in, both of you." Percy and Audrey were ushered inside. "Everyone but your father is here, and dinner will be ready soon." She hurried off back to the kitchen as Percy took a few tentative steps towards the sitting room, where he could see his family and their guests grouping.

"Hey, Perce."

Percy jumped in surprise at the voice and he turned to see Charlie standing behind him. He felt a little bit of dread in his stomach. He hadn't seen any of his siblings very often since the Battle of Hogwarts, but Charlie was the only one he had been actively avoiding. Because he wasn't ready to answer any questions Charlie would be having about their meeting at the Reserve that day.

"Your face has healed well, I see," Charlie commented, raising an eyebrow at him. "Unless that's just a magic concealment you're using. How did you get those scars, again? I don't believe you said." There was a vein of something in his voice…not hostility, but combativeness? Like he wanted to start a fight.

"Charlie, don't," Percy begged him quietly. "Not here. Not now."

Charlie gave him an appraising look, and Percy felt like he was five years old again, awaiting the opinion of his all-knowing big brother. But he was over that stage of his life, right? "If not now, when?" he said finally. As he spoke, Audrey turned to face Percy expectantly and she crossed her arms, as if she wanted to hear the answer to this question as well.

But in that moment, Ginny called out to them from across the room. Percy silently sent her thanks. "Hey, you lot! Come over here, I want to talk to Audrey."

Percy exchanged a quick glance with Audrey, who shrugged, and they walked over to where Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione were standing. "Hello, you four," Percy greeted them pompously, trying to regain the composure Charlie had taken from him. "You've met my girlfriend, Audrey."

"Hi," Percy distantly heard Audrey say to them, but Percy wasn't paying attention because he had just noticed that Ginny and Harry were _holding hands_ and was the savior of the wizarding world _dating_ his _baby sister_?

He gawked openly at the gesture of affection for nearly ten seconds as they all stood around awkwardly. Overcoming his shock, Percy finally spoke up in a desperate attempt to ease the tension. "So…what have you four been up to lately?"

Hermione jumped in eagerly at the question. "Well, Harry and I have been working with the Aurors to find remaining Death Eaters who evaded initial capture. It has been quite difficult to sort out those who were Imperiused and those who acted out of their own free will."

Percy nodded; that had been a big problem after the first war as well, and it had led to many people as guilty as sin avoiding prison terms. He was about the respond when Ron broke into the conversation.

"_I've_ been working at the shop," Ron said loudly, and Percy knew he was talking about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. "You're still at the Ministry, of course?"

Percy heard distinct disdain and thinly veiled anger in his youngest brother's voice as he said this. Percy knew he hadn't imagined it when Hermione swiftly elbowed Ron in the ribs, frowning at him. Percy could feel his hands begin to shake a little; behavior like Ron's was what he had feared most about coming back home…

"Well, yes, I am," Percy replied, clearing his throat slightly. A small voice in his head told him that know wasn't the right time to brag about his new position as head of a department. He sent silent thanks to this voice; it was a relatively new phenomenon, but he found it to be quite helpful. "Of course." It barely even occurred to him to mention the ashen remains of his resignation letter in his fireplace, about how he had nearly left his position.

"They're doing good work, Ron," Hermione said reproachfully, as Harry and Ginny shuffled their feet and looked uncomfortable.

"About time," Ron muttered moodily.

Awkwardness once again settled over their group, and Percy felt his face flush. He turned and stared around the room, noting who was there. Bill, Charlie and Fleur stood in a corner, talking to Andromeda Tonks who was sitting on a moth-eaten couch and rocking little Teddy, her parentless grandson who immediately made Percy think about Simon. His mum was in the kitchen, and his dad wasn't here yet, so that left…

"Where's George?" Percy questioned after a few seconds, frowning. His mum had said that all his siblings would be here…

But of course they all couldn't be, Percy told himself, feeling foolish. Fred would _never _be here, for dinner or anything else. Percy felt a little sick to his stomach at this thought, and it intensified at the sad, worried looks that immediately developed on Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Harry's faces.

"He's upstairs," Ginny murmured, biting her lip. "He says…he says he's not feeling well."

Percy's uneasiness increased. _George _never _gets ill. Ever. And everyone looks so worried, that can't be the only thing that's wrong._

Ginny cleared her throat loudly and turned to fully face Percy and Audrey, obviously intent on changing the subject. "So, what do you do, Audrey? Do you work at the Ministry, too?"

"No, although I actually might be getting a temporary part-time job there," Audrey replied conversationally. "I work at a Magical Creature Reserve in Scotland."

Percy noted with some muted satisfaction the looks of surprise that passed over their faces at this. He knew very well that this wasn't a job that people would suspect Percy Weasley's girlfriend of doing.

"Really? That's…unusual," Ginny responded. "I guess you should talk to Charlie, the big guy over there in the corner. He works at a Reserve, too, although it's only for dragons."

"We've actually, uh, _crossed paths_ a few times before." Audrey said with a slight smile, shooting Percy a glance. He returned the smile half-heartedly.

"How did you two meet, anyway?" Harry spoke for the first time since Percy and Audrey had arrived. Ron remained tight-lipped and sullen.

Audrey opened her mouth as if to respond, but Percy, who was worried she would let something slip that he wouldn't be able to explain easily, cut her off. "Through a mutual friend," he answered quickly. "Lynn Willow. She was a year behind me in Gryffindor. She's a healer at St. Mungo's now."

There was no recognition in their faces at her name, but Percy knew that if George was here, he would remember Lynn.

At that moment, the front door swung open and they all turned to see Mr. Weasley enter the Burrow, looking just as careworn and tired as his wife but also sporting a happy smile.

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley bustled out of the kitchen to put her arms around her husband. "You're just in time; dinner's ready." At the arrival of Mr. Weasley, everyone flocked around the door to greet him. Percy underwent a spasm of nervousness as he stepped forward, but then Audrey took his hand and squeezed it, and he felt better. He managed a sincere smile at his father.

"Hi, Dad," Percy said quietly, and Mr. Weasley hugged him.

Suddenly he felt _a lot_ better.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley." Audrey stepped up after all the Weasleys had greeted him, smiling politely. She held out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Audrey White, in case you've forgotten, Percy's girlfriend."

Mr. Weasley smiled at her, setting his briefcase down. "Call me Arthur, please. Of course I remember you. It's been a while, hasn't it? It's good to see you again."

"Yeah," Bill said, joining the conversation with a cheeky grin that made Percy anxious. He glanced around and saw Fleur was still with Andromeda and Teddy. Now there was nothing to distract his eldest brother. "You know, Audrey, you're not what I expected Percy would be bringing home."

Audrey looked playfully up at him. "Oh, really? Well, what did you expect?"

Bill grinned evilly, making Percy instantly apprehensive. "Honestly? With his lack of girlfriends? Maybe…Oliver Wood?"

Percy scowled deeply at the snickering Bill as Audrey eyebrows shot up and she turned to him. "_Oliver_?" she repeated. "Is there something I should know about, Perce?"

"Yes," Percy said, frowning and putting an arm around her waist. "You should know never to believe anything my brothers say. They're terrible liars."

Bill just laughed and shook his head. "Come on, Perce! You still haven't learned how to take a joke?"

Audrey laughed lightly as they all trooped into the kitchen to take their seats around the magically enlarged table.

"I'm going to put Teddy to bed, Molly," Andromeda called from the adjacent room. "I'll be in later for tea, okay?"

"All right, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied as she began putting food down on the table. Percy brightened a little at the thought of finally getting to eat his mum's cooking again. He couldn't help but shooting Ginny a nervous look as their mum set down a dish of parsnips—but then he thought of George, and Fred, and he felt a heavy weight in his stomach again.

Everyone settled into a comfortable chatter around the table, and Percy tuned into the conversation his dad, Bill and Fleur were having.

"I'm so glad we finally were able to cut all the extra security measures." Bill was saying, "It was a relief to take the Fidelius charm off of Shell Cottage— our sudden appearance scared the hell out the few neighbors we have, though."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Weasley agreed whole-heartedly. "It's nice to be able to enter my own house without having to say that my life's ambition is to find out how airplanes stay up!"

Audrey obviously heard this as well. "It's a combination of aerodynamic forces. Lift, weight, thrust and drag," she jumped in, sipping from her glass of water.

She looked a little unnerved as Arthur spun abruptly in his chair, his wide, intense eyes settling on her. "Do you know how they work?" he questioned eagerly. "Do you _really_?"

"I, um, yes," Audrey responded, flustered. "I was raised by a muggle."

"Can you explain to me the function of a rubber ducky?" Mr. Weasley asked excitedly. "Or spark plugs? I have about a dozen, but I have no idea what they're _for_…"

Percy smiled slightly as the two began a deep discussion about various muggle inventions and customs. At least his girlfriend could connect with his father, even if he had trouble. He decided to leave them to it and turned his attention to where Harry, Hermione and Charlie were talking about the trials for those charged with trials against muggle-borns had been going.

"I heard that every person involved had to go through the courts!" Hermione said, shaking her head. "Is seems like an awful waste of time. Most of those workers were good people who couldn't do anything about what was going on. It's not fair to criminalize everyone."

Charlie was frowning. "Yes, but the reason they have the trials is to determine who they do need to criminalize. I mean, they can find the good people pretty easily, right Percy?"

Percy blinked in surprise at being pulled into the conversation, but he recovered quickly. Straightening his glasses to cover his shock, Percy replied evenly, "That is true; they have created a process with considerable efficiency and fairness." He briefly thought about  
Pertinax.

"Yeah, but what if it's _too_ efficient and _too_ fair?" Harry put in darkly. "What if they don't punish the real criminals, like Umbridge?"

"They did sentence Umbridge," Percy said quietly, and nearly everyone at the table looked at him. "Twenty years in Azkaban."

The corners of Bill's mouth were pointed down. He pushed some of his long red hair away from his scarred face. "But they can't exactly take her there, can they? Or take anyone, for that matter."

Ron's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, Bill?"

"The Aurors still haven't been able to take back Azkaban. The Death Eaters took it over and used it to house political prisoners, and the place is still infested with all sorts of Dark creatures. They haven't even cleared out all the cells yet…"

"Wait," Ron exclaimed in alarm. "Do you mean that there could still be prisoners living in there?"

Bill rolled his eyes. "Don't be a moron, Ron. Of course they got everyone who was still _alive _out."

"But there still could be people in there…that didn't make it," Harry said softly, nudging a piece of meat around his plate with his fork.

Audrey stared blankly at him, turning pale. Percy wondered if she was thinking about Ayden. Tentatively, he placed a hand on her leg. A little color returned to her face at the small gesture, but the would-be reassuring smile didn't convince him at all that this exchange wasn't making her feel uneasy. He was extremely grateful when his mum changed the subject.

"So, Audrey dear, I want to hear more about you! You're with my Percy, but I feel like I know nothing about you. Where are you from, exactly?"

"Uh…" Audrey cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable that every eye was suddenly upon her. "Well, I suppose you can tell from my accent, can't you? The States. Washington, to be exact."

"Why'd you come to Britain, then?" Ginny asked curiously. "Or did you meet Percy's friend—Lynn, was it?—over there?"

"Oh no, I met Lynn at St. Mungo's. You see, I had some run-ins with the wizards where I came from. I thought job prospects would be better overseas, so…here I am." Audrey grinned happily, turning a little to face Percy. "I don't think I've made a better choice in my life."

Percy felt a little bubble of happiness rise in his chest, for once not caring how unprofessional he must look to his siblings.

But it didn't take long for the conversation to drift back to politics again, despite his mum's best efforts.

"What I want to know," Bill was musing over his empty plate, "is what they are going to do about the schooling issue. We all know very well that what the kids learned at Hogwarts last year wasn't the real curriculum. So are they going to make every child repeat the year?"

Ginny's head jerked up, the look on her face saying she was appalled by this idea. "They can't do that, can they?"

"What about the muggle-borns, who weren't allowed to even attend at all?" Mr. Weasley said, running a hand over his face and adjusting his glasses. "Or the students who chose not to go?"

"Well, regardless of what the Ministry dictates," Mrs. Weasley cut in, turning her gaze sternly to where Ron, Harry and Hermione were sitting, "you three will be going back for your N.E., right?" The way she phrased it, it wasn't a question.

"Of course," Hermione replied immediately, but Ron and Harry said nothing and exchanged a nervous glance. Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, and the tips of Ron's ears went red.

"Right, Ron, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley prompted again, her voice containing a familiar edge of parental steel to it. "You two _can't_ be considering abandoning your educations."

"I agree," Percy jumped in, horrified at the idea that two of his younger siblings (as Harry was an honorary sibling) weren't getting N.E.. "You can't possibly expect to get a decent job without your N.E.."

He felt a little prickle of annoyance as Ron scoffed at his comment.

"Come on, Perce," Audrey said, bumping his shoulder gently. "That's not true. I didn't get my N.E., and I have a good job, don't I?"

Percy felt a blush spread across his cheeks. "Y-yes," he stammered. "Of course you do, but you're a special case—"

"You didn't get any N.E., Audrey?" Bill asked, looking amused.

Audrey smiled sheepishly, tugging on a curl of hair. "Uh…no. I didn't _quite _make it through my last year."

"Like me, then?"

Every at the table turned around in surprise to face the voice, seeing George standing the doorway. He looked a little rumpled, a little tired, but he was _there_, with what could have been a ghost of a smile on his lips. There was a brief moment of silence at his arrival, and then everyone burst into huge grins. Mrs. Weasley leapt up immediately, squealing with delight and drawing her son into a bone-crushing hug. After reluctantly releasing him, she bustled over to draw him up a chair and get him a plate heaping with food.

"I don't know," Audrey quipped when he was settled. "Did you decide to right a social wrong by organizing a jail-break of your school's magical creatures?"

Percy, though his face and neck was burning with embarrassment at the fact his girlfriend was comparing misdeeds with his brother, couldn't help but take satisfaction from the shocked looks on his family's faces. Everyone had stopped their individual conversations, focusing on Audrey and George. Ginny looked stunned, and Ron's jaw had dropped altogether.

There was no mistaking it now; there was a tiny smile gracing George's face. "Well, I stood up to authority, if that's what you mean." He paused, gaze flickering from her to Percy, who met his eyes for a second before looking away. "You're Audrey, right?"

Audrey grinned at him, nodding. "And you're George?"

"Yep," George replied, sitting down in his chair and setting to work on his food. "It'll be interesting getting to know you, Audrey," he said, spewing half-chewed food onto the table. Percy scowled at the action. George caught the expression and made a face at him.

It was almost like old times again.


	4. Snatch the Snitch

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

Chapter 4

Soon they were all done with dinner, and Andromeda had come back down for tea. Percy was amazed with how well Audrey and his siblings got on, especially her and George. Seeing this particular brother of his looking happy for once eased a heavy weight that had settled in Percy's chest.

It was a defining moment in the evening when Harry suggested they all go out for a game of Quidditch in the neighboring fields. Normally, such a request wouldn't apply to him. It was automatically assumed that any game of Quidditch played by the Weasleys did not include Percy, end of story.

Which was why he sputtered with indignant protests as Audrey tried to drag him out the door with the rest of the Weasley brood plus Harry and Hermione.

"Come on, Perce, it'll be fun!"

"No," Percy grumbled, trying in vain to extract his arm from her vice-like grip. "No, I can't fly a broomstick to save my life!"

"That's true, he's really quite awful," Bill said with a grin as he stood. "You coming, Fleur?" he asked his wife, who was helping Mrs. Weasley magically wash the dishes.

She shook her silvery blond head. "Not zis time, Bill. I will stay and 'elp your muzzer clean up."

"Yes," Percy put in quickly, still attempting to tug himself away from Audrey. Since when was she this _strong_? "I'll be happy to help as well."

"No." pouted Audrey. "Come on, let's play! I like Quidditch; I was Chaser for my school team!"

"You were what?" Percy asked, and he was so shocked by this new revelation that his attention broke long enough to allow Audrey to drag him from his chair and out into the cool night air. The stars twinkled merrily above. A few gray wisps of clouds covered the bright moon. Percy tightened his cloak protectively, feeling a knot of nervousness form in his stomach. Quidditch was another divide that separated him from his siblings—they could all play it well, and he just couldn't.

He must have been looking pretty miserable because Hermione came up to stand beside him. They watched as Harry and Ron began digging around the storage shed for brooms and balls. "Don't worry," she said soothingly. "I'm dreadful as well. It can still be fun, though. Give it a chance. Who knows, you might even enjoy it."

Percy just sighed, and reluctantly grasped the broom that was offered him (one of the old Shooting Star models, because, truthfully, a good broom would be wasted on him and they all knew it).

"I bought a real set of balls from the Quidditch supply shop in Diagon Alley," Harry was saying excitedly as he and Ron heaved a trunk out into the open. Brooms in hand, hauling the trunk, they all trooped out into the neighboring fields, kicking absent-mindedly at stray gnomes as they went. The light from the moon and stars was so bright, they didn't need any charms to see.

"All right. We'll mark off three hoops above _here_," Charlie said after surveying the field for a few moments, gouging a line in the grass with his boot. "And _there_," he pointed out to the distance. Bill and George, using a spell Percy didn't know, conjured up golden goal hoops that hung in the air, glittering. Teams were quickly made, and Fred's absence was heavily felt.

Bill, Charlie, Ginny, Audrey and Percy were one team, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, George were another.

"I'll sit out," Percy protested. "The teams are uneven, it wouldn't be fair—"

"Perce," Ginny said, pulling her dark red hair into a ponytail, "no offense, but if anything, our team is as a disadvantage with you as an extra player." Percy scowled at her, but couldn't deny the truth to her words.

"Charlie and I are being the Seekers, I'm guessing?" Harry said. "Look at what I've got!"

Percy look over curiously as Harry pulled a tiny, winged golden ball out of the trunk, holding it in a clenched fist.

"Is that a real Snitch?" Charlie asked gleefully. "It's been _ages _since I've played with one of those!"

"Yeah," Harry replied, grinning. "And I've got a Quaffle—" he pulled out a large red ball—"and Bludgers."

Percy eyed the two small, jet-black balls nervously as they strained to free themselves from the straps binding them into the trunk.

"I figure we'll only play with one, since the teams are small, so one Beater per team." He pulled out two Beater's bats. Again, it just felt _wrong_ to not have Fred and George wielding their bats together. "And no Keepers." Harry shot an apologetic smile at Ron. "Sorry, we really don't have enough players."

"Whatever." Ron swung a leg over his broom, obviously excited to start playing.

"Isn't it against the law to use Quidditch equipment like this in muggle saturated areas?" Percy inquired, frowning. "It would be a break of the Statute of Secrecy if we were seen or lost one of the balls."

Ron rolled his eyes, but other than that everyone ignored him. Percy puffed out his chest, offended, but a pleading look from Audrey convinced him to go with the flow.

The teams grouped together on opposite sides of the field to decide positions. Percy heard his heart pounding uncomfortably loud as he anticipated playing. _Oh, Merlin…_

"Okay," Charlie said seriously as they formed a huddle, all with their broomsticks tucked under their arms. "I'll be Seeker. Bill, you can be Beater, right?" He glanced at Bill, who grasped the bat in both hands and nodded. "Great. Ginny, you'll be a Chaser and—"

"I'll play Chaser, too," Audrey interrupted, looking around as though daring someone to argue with her.

Charlie just shrugged. "Sounds good. And, uh, Perce…just try to stay out of the way, all right?"

Percy turned bright red and grumbled his agreement. They all rushed to take their positions, and he hurried over to the edge of the makeshift pitch, mounting his broomstick like had been taught in school anxiously grabbing the handle.

The other team had gotten into position as well, with George holding the Beaters bat. Percy couldn't help but notice that he looked a lost, being on a Quidditch field without Fred. But then again, he looked lost _everywhere_ without Fred.

"GO!" Percy flinched as the game began, the Bludger and Snitch released, and Audrey grabbed the Quaffle, immediately lobbing it sideways to Ginny as Ron flew at her. He quickly lost track of what was going on, as he concentrated on trying to not to fall. He was hovering maybe a meter above the grass, shaking madly. He bit back a curse as someone zoomed over his head, the wind nearly knocking him off the broom.

There were shouts of triumph, and Percy looked up in time to see a bright red streak fly through Ron's outstretched fingers and into one of the glittering hoops. Ginny had scored.

Percy finally managed to steady himself, and took to hovering in place and watching everyone else play. He was surprised by what a great Chaser Audrey was—she was nearly as good as Ginny. Without realizing it, Percy drifted into the middle of the field.

"Percy! Watch out!"

Percy whipped his head around to face Bill at hearing his warning cry, just in time to see his older brother miss a swing at a Bludger. A Bludger that was heading right towards him.

Percy cried out in alarm, closing his eyes shut tight, trying to move out of the way and managing to jerk himself upwards. The Bludger flew past his ear with a loud _whoosh! _that Percy barely heard over the rush of blood in his head. Exhilaration was flooding his body. He had missed it! Maybe he wasn't so bad at Quidditch, after all.

For a second, Percy reveled in the glory of flying. No wonder his siblings loved this so much! He was free, the wind rushing through his hair, whipping back his cloak; he was going so fast…_too _fast maybe…

Percy felt his blood run cold as he realized he couldn't stop. He wrenched his eyes open, just in time to see Audrey's face staring at him in shock before they crashed into each other.

"Oompf!"

Percy felt himself smack into the ground, and a thunk next to him told him that Audrey had fallen, too. He rolled over onto his knees, hurriedly fixing his glasses and settling them on his nose. He looked over at Audrey.

"I'm so sorry… are you all right?"

Audrey was lying flat on her back, staring straight up at the sky, and for a terrifying moment Percy was worried she was really hurt. But then Audrey stretched her arms out, and behind her head, leaning back and cushioning her head on her heads.

Everyone else had coasted in and landed next to them. "Are you guys okay?" Ginny asked, dropping to her knees on the ground.

"C'mon Perce, you prat, don't tell me you killed our Chaser!" Bill joked, but with a touch of concern in his voice.

"Does this mean you're forfeiting?" Ron grumbled, scratching his head with his broomstick.

"You wish!" Ginny shouted. "We're beating you into the ground!"

"Oh please, you stacked the teams!"

As everyone dissolved into good-natured arguments around them, with Bill trying to tackle the renegade Bludger, Audrey propped herself up onto her elbows and sighed. "You know, Perce," she said seriously, still staring at the stars. "By this time next month—actually, we'd better make it two months—I'll have taught you how to fly properly."

"I wouldn't put any money on it," Percy mumbled as he stood, wincing. Audrey took his offered hand and soon they were on feet amongst the arguments.

"Uh…we're okay, guys," Audrey announced, picking up her broom again.

"Look!" Hermione suddenly shouted, pointing off to the left. "The Snitch!"

They all whirled around to see a little flash of gold, flitting around in the air. Harry and Charlie immediately went for their brooms, but before they could so much as get into the air, the Snitch had speed off, away from their makeshift pitch and into the trees.

They all stared after it, shell-shocked for few moments.

"We need to get it back!" Hermione finally squeaked. "Harry, if one of the muggles that live here find it—"

"I told you!" Percy said, cold horror washing over his limbs. They were in so much trouble… "We shouldn't have been playing with real balls! I don't know what you all were _thinking_… that was so _irresponsible_…"

"Well, maybe if you hadn't crashed into Audrey, the Snitch wouldn't have gotten away!" Ron shouted back, angry.

"I fail to see how it is _my _fault that you didn't think to put up any sort of protective measures around the fields to prevent the Snitch from leaving." Percy responded coldly.

"Everyone," Bill said loudly, over whatever Ron's reply might have been. He had wrestled the Bludger back into the ball trunk; Ginny replaced the Quaffle and they snapped it shut. It was pretty obvious the Quidditch game was over for today. "Just shut up and stop arguing; we need to figure out how to get the Snitch back!"

Harry raised his wand, pointing it in the direction of the trees. "_Accio Snitch_," he muttered. Nothing happened.

"Snitches are built immune to summoning spells, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "To prevent cheating."

"Well, we'll just have to go get it ourselves, won't we?" George said. He dropped his broomstick and cracked his knuckles, striding towards the trees. Surprised glances were exchanged, and then everyone began to follow him, trailing after one another in search of the Snitch.

Percy remained rooted to the spot. "You can't be serious!" he said indignantly.

"Come on, Perce," Bill called back over his shoulder. "Do you want to be the one to go back and tell Mum we broke wizarding law?"

Percy looked helplessly at Audrey, who was standing beside him. She shrugged. "I like searching for things."

So Percy had no choice but to follow her and his siblings into the woods, with an ominous feeling that this was going to be a _very _long night.


	5. Discovery

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

Chapter 5

They trudged along through the trees, each carrying on quiet conversations as they walked by the green light of their wands. Hermione had cast a tracking spell, and they all followed the thin spire of blue light snaking through the trees. Percy knew that she was a very competent witch for her age, but the longer they walked the more he felt like there was a flaw in her magic and they were going on a wild goose chase. They had been walking for what must have been hours, but felt like weeks.

Audrey had jumped in on a conversation Ron, Hermione and Harry were having about the validity of various sports, magical and muggle.

"Quidditch is the best, hands down," Ron said dismissively.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I played all sorts of stuff before I found out I was a wizard, and Quidditch is the greatest. You really can't beat flying."

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione said. "I like it's a little close-minded to end the argument at that. What about people who don't enjoy flying?"

"I like football, personally," Audrey put in, falling in step with them. "Not American football—the_ real_ kind, that you actually play with your feet. We should play some time." She suddenly turned around and looked at Percy. "Maybe you'd actually be good at it!" she joked.

Percy just scowled and shook his head. He'd pretty much resigned himself to the fact that, when it came to anything that required elements of athleticism, he would inevitably be the worst person in the room at it.

"Football. That's what Dean was always going on about, right?" Ron said, shaking his head. "Right stupid, if you ask me."

Ginny sighed theatrically. "Come on, Ron. Don't tell me you _still_ have something against Dean _just_ because we used to date."

"No!" Ron shot back, his ears burning red. "Not everything is about you, Ginny."

Ginny tossed back her dark red hair and took Harry's hand in her own. Percy averted his gaze from this, still horrified at the idea of Ginny, who he still remembered best as a sweet little twelve-year-old, dating anyone.

"Damn!"

All their heads snapped up as Bill cursed, pulling his foot from an apparent sinkhole in the ground. It was soaking wet. "Be careful," he commented dryly, wiping his slime covered shoe on a rock. "It gets a little swampy up the road."

"This should be fun." George rubbed his palms together.

Percy groaned, lowering his wand so he could make out the ground he was walking on. Sure enough, the hard-packed, leafy earth was giving way to mossy mud.

"Remember that corridor from school that you guys jinxed, George?" Harry asked as he hopped gracefully over a swampy patch. All the younger kids laughed at his comment. Percy rubbed agitatedly at his face as it began to sting and smart in pain. Audrey caught the motion and looked at him with concern, but he shook his head. The discomfort was gone in seconds.

"There's still a little bit of that left, you know," Ginny piped up happily. "Even the _Death Eaters_ couldn't figure out a way to get rid of the stuff that Flitwick left behind."

"What is this that you're talking about, George?" Percy grumbled. It sounded like more of the rule-breaking and pranks that the twins had done at school.

George turned around to face Percy so that he was walking backwards. He raised his wand so that the lighted tip cast its glow over Percy's face. "Well, you see—" He broke off, jaw dropping. "Bloody hell!"

Percy flinched away from the blinding light. "What is it, George?" he groused, annoyed.

"Your _face_!" George gaped. Everyone else had stopped in their tracks, turning to watch the loud conversation.

"My face?" Percy shot back. "Honestly, George. That's very mature." He was about to go on when Audrey gripped his arm warningly.

"Uh, Perce?" she whispered to him. "Your charm wore off. Your scars are showing."

Percy felt his blood run cold. That stupid charm. It was incredibly effective at covering pretty much anything, but wore off after 16 or so hours. Which usually wasn't a problem, because on any sane day he'd be in bed by now…

"It's nothing," he said quickly, trying to hide his face. No such luck, though, as Ginny grabbed his hand and wrenched it away with surprising strength.

"When did this happen?" she demanded.

"A couple months ago," Percy answered, tugging free from her grip. His face was bright red; he was acutely aware of the intense scrutiny of all his siblings. "It's fine, it's healed, I just cast a concealment charm because it's easier to manage that way."

He tried to keep walking, but bumped into Bill's solid shoulder. "Come on," Percy argued weakly. "We're losing the trail; the Snitch is getting away…" He trailed off under Bill's glare.

"What are these from, Percy?" Bill asked, frowning. "Merlin, they're almost as bad as mine…"

"Dragon fire burns, right?" Charlie said pointedly, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

"Wait, what?" Ginny snapped as Hermione gasped and Ron's jaw dropped.

"It's nothing," Percy tried to say again, but his voice wavered slightly. "Nothing…" _Why did they have to see the scars? Why can't everything go back to normal? _Percy thought desperately.

Percy let out a sigh of relief as Audrey, obviously sensing his helplessness, stepped in to help. "He got them when he was visiting me at a Reserve I was working at. A renegade dragon we couldn't control burned him."

"This wouldn't the same Horntail that you stole from my Reserve and then let loose over an abandoned factory?" Charlie asked sharply.

"You got burned by a Horntail?" Harry said, apparently missing every else Charlie had said (Percy never thought he'd be grateful for the brevity of the teenage attention span), and winced sympathetically. "Ouch."

"We _rode_ a dragon," Ron put in, grinning. "Remember? Bloody hell, I'll take a broomstick over one of those monsters any day."

"Damn, I can't believe I missed that," Ginny added, shaking her head. "That must have been brilliant!"

"Oh, no Ginny," Hermione said. "It was terrible! Its scales were cold and hard and there was nothing to hold on to. It was so scary; I thought it was going to eat us at any second!"

"Hey!" Charlie was calling over the rapidly digressing conversation. "Doesn't anyone else want to what _Percy _was doing—"

Before he could finish, a streak of gold shot overhead, trailing the blue light of Hermione's tracking charm. Harry jumped straight up, trying to grab the Snitch, but it flew out of his reach. "Get it!" he shouted. "Quick, before it gets away again!"

Everyone leapt into action, chasing after the Snitch. Percy felt Audrey's hand close around his wrist and she dragged him the opposite direction, through some trees. Percy let out an involuntary cry as his foot plunged into a puddle of muddy sludge. So much for his shoes…

"Audrey, what—?"

"You're lucky I covered your ass there," she growled, pacing back and forth, unperturbed by the mud splattering her pants.

"You—you covered…what?" Percy sputtered, confused. He glanced over his shoulder, unsure of where his siblings had gone. He could hear shouting and the sound of snapping branches.

"Why won't you tell them the truth, Perce?" Audrey hissed, brushing back hair from her eyes and crossing her arms.

_Oh, so we're going to have this conversation. Brilliant._ He sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. "It's…complicated, Audrey."

Her hazel eyes flashed dangerously. "No, it's actually quite simple. All you have to do to is tell exactly what you were doing during the war!"

Percy replaced his glasses and sighed, leaning against a nearby tree. He shook his head. "Audrey, I'm sorry. You just don't understand."

"Understand what?" Audrey stamped her foot, scattering drops of muddy water. "You know what? This is like that prank that you pulled in school. The one with the Slytherin Quidditch team you told me about in the Hog's Head. You _know_ that telling them what you did will make them like you better, but you still refuse to do it!"

"Audrey, they won't—"

"Don't say they won't believe you! Because you have _proof_." She shook her head fiercely, her curly hair bouncing on her shoulders. "I simply don't get you sometimes, Percy. It's like you want them to hate you."

Percy stared at her in shock. "How can you say that?"

"You act differently around them, Percy. You don't act like you do with me or Lynn," Audrey replied simply.

"In what way?" Percy asked quietly.

"You act like a jerk! A pompous ass. I used to think that was just, I don't know, a defense mechanism or something because you only did it when you were flustered or something like that. But now I don't think you even _try _to make your family like you."

Percy stared at her, eyes wide, for a moment. "I try," he whispered finally. "It's just hard." He turned away, feeling tears sting his eyes. He cursed under his breath, attempting to force them down. "But I refuse to grovel. I won't change who I am just because they disapprove of me."

"Perce…," Audrey's voice softened immediately. Percy felt her hand settle gently on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." She tugged him around and pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not good with people, okay?" he mumbled into her hair, not breaking the embrace. "I'm good with books, and spells, but not people. They don't like me. I can't get along with them."

"You get along with me, and with Lynn," Audrey murmured soothingly.

"You two are different. I don't know how, you're just easier to talk too. I don't know why."

Audrey sighed, pulling away from the hug. She gripped his shoulders, looking directly into his eyes. "I think I do, Perce. Family is family. Lord knows, they can be hard. Family like to poke fun a lot, Percy, and I think you are especially susceptible to that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he said weakly, not even managing to work up any sincere defensiveness. He knew exactly what she meant, and it was true. He was an easy target, with his uptight nature and lack of social and athletic skills.

"You have quirks, okay? And you are pretty thin-skinned. For some people, it's hard to get past that to see the real you. But we share interests, and I've got the pleasure of seeing you and talking to you when you're comfortable, and when you aren't trying to _prove _anything. I don't think many other people have seen that." Audrey smiled at him, reaching up to gently cup his scarred face. She raised her head to kiss him. Percy locked his arms around her waist, savoring the moment.

"OI!"

They broke apart at the sound of Ron's shout. Percy looked around wildly for his little brother, but he couldn't see anyone through the thick trees.

"GRAB IT, HARRY! GRAB IT!"

There was a loud crash of branches hitting the ground and several cries of alarm.

"DAMN!"

Harry's voice this time.

Audrey turned to him with a grin. "Maybe we should go stop them from killing themselves, what do you say?"

"Sounds brilliant," Percy replied with a tight smile. They had taken a few steps towards the voices when something shot out of the trees and past them, straight into the mud. It floundered there, hummingbird-like, desperately trying to free itself but only succeeding in spraying yet more mud into the air. Glancing at Audrey, Percy leaned over and plucked it from the mud. The Weasleys burst from the trees to see Percy holding up the Snitch, struggling to keep his grip on it as it beat its wings wildly.

"Yes!" Harry ran over and grabbed the Snitch from Percy's hand, wrangling it into his own pocket.

"Excellent!" Ron smacked his palms together, rubbing them against each other. "Now should we go back to the game?"

"Definitely not," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "It's well past midnight! We need to figure out how to get back to the Burrow."

"Uh…" Bill glanced around at the unvarying surrounding of identical trees. "Anyone have any idea where we are?"

Everyone shook their heads. Bill sighed. "All right, it looks like we're apparating home. Gin, you can come with me. Ron, Harry, you two get the broomsticks and trunk from the field."

Ginny nodded and took Bill's arm. Everyone split off into groups and disappeared with loud cracks, group by group. Soon it was only Audrey and Percy, standing alone in the trees.

"I guess we should go too." Percy offered his own arm to Audrey. "Finally, I get to drag _you_ along through Side Along Apparation instead of the other way around," he joked weakly.

Audrey shrugged, smiling pensively at him. "So, is that a 'no' on the telling your family the truth?" she questioned.

Percy sighed. "I—"

"You have to do it sometime," Audrey interrupted firmly. "Promise me you will."

He was silent for a few seconds. And then: "I promise."

"Good," Audrey said, satisfied. "Now, where were we?"

Percy reached out to take her hand. "I was just about to—"

Audrey cut him off again, grabbing his arm and twisting them both around sharply. There was a _crack! _and after the suffocating feeling of being shoved through a tight rubber tube, they both appeared in front of the Burrow.

Percy panted, doubling over and resting his hands on his knees. He shot Audrey, whose eyes were twinkling with humor (a much welcome change from the previous anger), a mock-glare. She smirked. Percy sighed in exasperation at her antics and turned his attention to where the rest of their makeshift Quidditch teams were grouping uncertainly outside the Burrow. Harry and Ron were stuffing the equipment back in the storage shed.

"Should we just go in?" Bill asked. "I mean, it's really late—" He broke off, looking up at the milky tendrils of light beginning to spread over the gray sky. "Or, er, early, I guess. We don't want to wake anyone up."

"I'm bloody exhausted," Percy grumbled irritably, scratching at his face. "Let's go inside quietly, okay?"

With further ado, George pulled the front door open and they began to troop inside. Percy felt like a rule-breaking child, sneaking into his parent's house during the night.

Percy gasped in surprise to see his father, dozing over the kitchen table with a newspaper held loosely in his hand.

"Dad?" Bill shook his shoulder worriedly. Arthur jerked awake, looking startled. But he smiled upon seeing his children, who at this point had all squeezed themselves into the Burrow, shedding their mud-splattered clothes and rubbing tiredly at their eyes. Percy surreptitiously recast the concealment charms—_that _conversation could wait for tomorrow. He was far too tired for it now. "I hope you weren't waiting up for us…" Bill continued guiltily.

"Well, your mother was a little worried that you all were gone so long." Arthur stood, tucking the paper (a copy of _The Daily Prophet, _which was thankfully under new management) under his arm. "But I knew you all were fine." He smiled. "I'm just glad you all are finally getting along." He headed for the stairs. "I'm going to get some sleep. I hope you all will, too."

Everyone quickly dispersed to their respective rooms, with Percy dogging his younger siblings closely to make sure that Harry and Ginny found their way into separate bedrooms. Thankfully, the lot of them split up into gender appropriate rooms.

"Where are we going?" Audrey asked quietly, and Percy suddenly realized that they were standing alone in the corridor. The only sounds were the creaking of the floorboards under their feet and the familiar moaning of the ghoul in the attic.

"Well, I suppose if Bill and Charlie are bunking together, my old room will be open…" He slowly walked down the corridor until he reached a dark brown door bearing a small, homemade sign that read: "This Room and the Contents Thereof are the Private Property of Percy Ignatius Weasley". He blushed at the childish sign—which really hadn't been an effective deterrent against his siblings, younger or older—as Audrey reached up and touched it.

"That's a nice touch," she murmured playfully.

Smiling sheepishly in embarrassment, Percy pushed the door open and stepped inside his childhood room.

It was exactly as it had been the last time he has seen it. Percy remembered that time all too well. He had been furious, indignant, near tears, and throwing everything he could grab into his briefcase while his mother's pleas and his father's shouts were ringing in his ears…

Shaking his head to clear it of such thoughts—that time of his life was over—Percy watched as Audrey slowly walked around the perimeter of the tiny room, looking over what little furnishings remained. A bed with a dark purple blanket in the corner, an empty, dusty bookshelf that he had cleaned out upon leaving, and an old rickety desk. There were some things he hadn't taken with him, too—several 'Outstanding' graded papers he had Spell-O taped to the walls, broken quills and dried up inkpots littering the desk surface.

It was a wholly unremarkable, boring room that perfectly reflected Percy's childhood. He sighed. "I know it's not much, but…"

"It's fine." Audrey plopped herself onto the small bed. "We'll have to squeeze together for us both to fit on this bed but, hey, I don't mind." She smiled suggestively.

Percy sat down beside her, clasping his hands together and inspecting them. They were muddy and still had some splinters from his unfortunate attempt at flying. "I'm sorry about tonight," he muttered after a few minutes of silence. "It didn't, erm, turn out exactly how I expected it to."

Audrey, however, grinned. "It's okay, it was fun. The food was great, and that was the best game of Quidditch I've played in ages!"

"Even though I crashed into you?"

"Well, I'm proud of you for dodging the Bludger at least," Audrey laughed. She brushed some hair out of her face, looking thoughtful. "I still plan on teaching you to fly, you know."

"Good luck with that. Honestly, though, I don't think you should waste your precious time trying to—"

Percy broke off suddenly, noticing a loose floorboard by the bed. It took him a few seconds, but he remembered why it was in such a state.

"What is it?" Audrey asked as he dropped to the floor by the bed. As a response, Percy pried up the floorboard, revealing a makeshift storage space under the floor. "Whoa. Didn't take you as the hiding-contraband-under-the-floor type, Perce."

"Only place the twins didn't think to look," Percy replied. He slowly began removing the contents of the hiding spot. His Hogwarts letter was there, and the letters informing him he had been made Prefect and Head Boy. Percy smiled fondly, remembering how excited he had been to get those. There were some pictures, too—one of him as a baby being held by his mother, a series of him as a young child with Bill and Charlie, and then newer ones where he was teaching chess to Ron or reading to Ginny. He pulled out a photograph of him with Scabbers—that one made Percy feel queasy, recalling what he had recently learned about the true identity of the rat. Quickly, Percy balled it up and threw it under the bed.

Percy removed the final object, a small, dusty, leather-bound journal that he had stopped writing it after he left Hogwarts, considering himself too old for such things. He flipped through the pages, eyes skimming over the pages and pages of scrawled memories.

As he carefully replaced all the objects, Percy became acutely aware that Audrey had been hanging over his shoulder the whole time he had been looking through the contents of the hideaway. He felt his cheeks turn pink.

"Just some old things," he muttered hastily, pulling himself back into the bed with Audrey. "Not important."

"Right," she smiled indulgently. "Of course."

Percy leaned back onto the bed, closing his eyes and letting his exhaustion overwhelm him.

"It's nice to be home," he finally mumbled into the darkness.


	6. Caught in the Act

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: The beginning of this chapter is from Hermione's POV, and then it switches back to Percy's. _

Chapter 6 

Hermione descended the steps into the kitchen, yawning widely and making a beeline for the coffee. Light was shining through the windows and making merry pools of golden yellow on the floor. Hermione shook her head, finding trouble accepting the idea that it was nearly _midday_ and she was just waking up—Ron and Harry were still sprawled in their beds, snoring loudly. She hadn't seen Percy or his girlfriend Audrey yet. Hermione smiled internally. She liked Audrey—the young woman seemed smart and fun; she'd be good for Percy.

Everyone else was milling around the kitchen, getting served a mixture of breakfast and lunch food by a beaming Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said politely as Ron's mum offered her some eggs.

"You're welcome," Mrs. Weasley replied with a happy smile. It was obvious to Hermione that she was enjoying having her whole family under one roof again. It had been awful, especially for the poor mother hen, after the Battle of Hogwarts, with everyone busy with reconstruction efforts and mourning the loss of Fred.

"'Lo, Hermione," Bill called from the table, where Fleur was feeding him bits of bacon. Hermione couldn't help but sigh inwardly at those two; she couldn't wait until they were out of the lovey-dovey phase. But they had been married for a year; it didn't seem like they were coming out if it anytime soon. "You're up before most of the house: I haven't even seen_ Percy_ yet."

"Well, we were all up rather late, wouldn't you say?" Hermione sat down at the table with Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Ginny, Mr. Weasley and George.

Before anyone could respond, there was a loud, frantic knocking on the door. Mr. Weasley put down his paper, frowning.

"Who could that be?" he asked. "I thought we put up spells to keep the press away…." The knocks continued at the door, louder and more erratic, soon becoming a desperate pounding. Everyone exchanged worried glances. Mrs. Weasley stopped her surveying the dishes washing themselves in the sink and turned towards the door, which was shaking under the assault. Hermione, who was closest to the door, leapt up and answered it.

She gasped in shock at the person standing in the sagging doorway. It was a middle-aged woman, dressed in a worn set of brown robes. Tears were beginning to stream down her face. "Are you okay?" Hermione inquired immediately, gently taking the arm of the poor woman. "Do you need help?"

"I'm l-looking for Audrey White and Percy Weasley," the woman replied shakily, wiping away the tears from her face. "The Ministry said th-they might be here."

Hermione blinked in surprise. What did this woman want with Percy and his girlfriend? "Yes, they're here." The woman let out a sob of relief. "May I ask your name?"

"Of course, of course. My name is Susan Edwards." She wiped at her face again. "Can you get them, please? I really need to t-talk to them."

"I'll get them," Hermione told her soothingly, still wondering what had this Susan so upset. "Why don't you come inside, have some tea?"

Mrs. Weasley bustled up quickly to the door, taking the woman's arm and leading her inside. "Yes, yes, Susan, please come in. I'm Molly, remember? We had Charms together in school. Perhaps you don't, it was so long ago."

Hermione headed up for the stairs as Mrs. Weasley lead the woman to the table, continuing to chatter comfortingly. George jumped up and offered his chair. "I'll go get Percy and Audrey," Hermione said.

George hurried up to walk beside her. "What does one of Mum's old schoolmates want with Percy?" he asked, glancing back to the kitchen. "She seems really upset."

Hermione just shook her head. "I don't know. It's unusual, isn't it?"

They took the stairs two at a time and soon were in front of the dark brown door to Percy's room. Hermione could hear soft noises coming from inside the room. "I guess they're awake."

She reached up a fist to knock, but George didn't seem to care about being polite. He grabbed the doorknob and flung the door open.

"Bloody hell!" George shouted, stumbling away from the room and shielding his eyes with his hands. Hermione, alarmed, jumped out of his way and looked into Percy's room to see what George was yelling about. She certainly wasn't prepared to see Percy and Audrey on Percy's bed kissing passionately with various articles of clothing unbuttoned and unzipped.

"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione ducked her head and surged backward, feeling her face turn bright red. "We're so sorry!"

"You could have knocked!" Percy cried out indignantly as he and Audrey broke apart, frantically trying to right their clothing, faces flushed crimson as well.

"Bloody hell!" George repeated, still covering his eyes. "Merlin, do you have to do that in the _house_? That's just not _right_!"

At that moment, Harry and Ron stumbled out of their rooms holding their wands. "Wazz wrong?" Ron asked, still half-asleep.

Percy and Audrey had, thankfully, gotten their clothes back on at this point.

"Percy—in his room—" George was stammering, "—with a _girl_—"

"_Honestly_," Percy protested as George continued to hide his face, pretending to be disgusted. Hermione, who was bright red to the roots of her hair, watched through her fingers as comprehension and then horror passed over Ron and Harry's faces. "Honestly, George, don't act as if you've never…" Percy broke off, staring at George like he'd never seen him before. "You're_ joking_, aren't you?" A slow smile spread across Percy's face. Hermione grinned too. It was so nice to see George kidding around again.

Audrey, looking irritated, pushed past the crowd of people gathering around Percy's room. "Very mature, you guys!" she hissed. "Learn how to knock, will you?"

"Learn how to lock a door if you're going to shag—" George said, starting to grin.

"_Okay!_" Audrey cut in loudly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Okay, okay, okay. Just…tell us why you felt the need to barge into Percy's room unannounced? _Please_?"

"There's a woman downstairs looking for you two," Hermione said quickly, desperate to stop the awkwardness. "Do either of you know a Susan Edwards?"

Percy and Audrey's embarrassment immediately disappeared as they exchanged a serious look and then headed for the stairs together. Hermione, curious, followed them. Behind her, George was still doubled over with laughter and Ron and Harry were gaping stupidly.

Susan was still sitting at the table, drinking tea with Molly. Her teary eyes jerked up when Percy and Audrey entered the room. She leapt to her feet.

"What's wrong?" Audrey exclaimed, as the same time Percy said, "Are you all right, ma'am?"

"Please," Susan said, rushing around the table to stand in front of them. "I think you know what happened to my children? Emilia, Thomas?"

Hermione frowned. What would they know about this woman's children?

Audrey's brow was furrowed with concentration. "Uh... brunette kids with dark green eyes?" she replied slowly. "Their father was a muggle?"

"Yes!" Susan bobbed her head wildly. "My husband." She started to cry again, big tears sliding down her cheeks. Hermione could feel her eyes begin to tear in sympathy. "I'm a muggle-born, and the Ministry was trying to put me in prison and I got him to take the kids and find help going into hiding, but, but—"

"We can help you," Percy said, his voice commanding but comforting. He glanced around the kitchen, which was packed with staring family members. "Why don't we go talk in the next room?"

The three of them walked into the living room, Percy closing the door behind them. There were several moments of awkward silence before Charlie finally spoke up.

"Now what was_ that_ about?" He shook his head. "Seriously, what is going on with Percy?"

There was silence in the room, broken only by the rustling sound of Mr. Weasley's newspaper as he folded it and placed it on the table, his eyebrows knitted. George glanced up from his food, something flashing in his eyes—realization?— and looking for a moment like he was going to speak, but he didn't.

A few minutes later, Audrey and Percy burst out from the living room with Susan between them. "I'm sorry, I have to go," Percy apologized. "Thanks for the food, Mum. I had a great time."

"Yes, me too," Audrey agreed as they pulled on their traveling cloaks. "Thank you so much for inviting me."

"Of course, of course," Mrs. Weasley bustled over to kiss Percy. Then she gasped in shock, letting out a shriek that caused everyone in the room to jump. "PERCY! Your…your face…you're hurt!"

Percy's hand flew up to the uneven, scarred flesh. Hermione watched out of the corner of her eye as Mr. Weasley, eyes wide, put his newspaper down and stared at his son. She knew this was the first time he had noticed the scars.

"It's nothing!" Percy said hastily. "I promise I'm fine," he tried to convince her as she continued to fuss over him.

"How did this happen?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, her voice bordering on tearful but with a definite edge of steel.

"Er…" Percy broke off, eyes shifting nervously around the room. "I'm sorry Mum, this is really important." He gestured his hand to where Susan stood. "Can you ask one of the others to explain?"

"I, I suppose," Molly replied, still looking doubtful about letting one of her chicks escape without explaining his injury.

"Thanks, Mum." Percy smiled reassuring at her. He raised his voice, adding, "Bye, Dad. Bye, Bill, George, Ginny… all of you lot!"

Everyone chorused their goodbyes as Percy and Audrey rushed out the door with the woman.

Mrs. Weasley turned to the kitchen table full of her children. "Well?" she demanded.

* * *

_Several hours later. _

Percy and Audrey strolled down the London street together, the constant buzz of the traffic beside them. Percy sighed contentedly; it had been a good day. They had successfully managed to reunite a woman with her husband and children who had gone into hiding during the war—every time Percy saw a family come back together, it made his heart swell with happiness.

He did not, however, even want to think about what had happened before that…. Honestly, what had possessed them to think that doing _that _was a good idea…?

"It's right up here," Audrey said excitedly, pointing up ahead. She was practically skipping down the sidewalk in front of him, obviously delighted to be showing Percy the flat she had picked out for them.

"We _are_ quite close to the Ministry," Percy commented approvingly. "And I think we just passed a bookstore…that's a good sign."

"Oh, yeah, I've already been in there, it's awesome," Audrey replied, grinning. "Great old books." Audrey suddenly stopped abruptly, and Percy bumped into her. She turned to the door of the building they were in front off, pulling out a key and letting them inside. "We're upstairs. 221B."

Percy chuckled. "It really is too bad this isn't Baker Street, isn't it?"

Audrey laughed with him as they started on the stairs. "I'm proud to say that that wasn't the _only _reason I chose this flat."

Percy nodded. It did appear to be a nice place; it was clean and well-lit, at least. As they reached the appropriate door, Audrey pulled out a second key and unlocked the door. She stepped inside. Percy moved to follow her inside, extremely curious to see the new place.

Percy nearly screamed at what he saw and stumbled backward, slamming into the wall. "Audrey, what the _hell_ is that?" he gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Audrey rolled her eyes. "God, there's no need to be so _dramatic_, Perce. He's a cat." Audrey picked up the animal from the couch and placed it on the ground.

Percy watched with wide eyes as the slim, tawny cat stalked around the floor. It had two long, gray markings running vertically down its back, unusually thick fur around its neck like a lion's mane, and disturbingly intelligent green eyes.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of cats, Perce," Audrey said, staring at him with disbelief.

"Not afraid, no," Percy responded defensively, jerking out of the cat's way as it padded past him. "I'm just, uh, not crazy about animals in general besides Hermes, is all…" Percy noted that Audrey must have brought the owl with her from his Ministry housing, as he was snoozing on a perch in the corner.

Audrey frowned. "C'mon, you must have had some pet other than an owl as a kid, right?" she asked, slightly desperately.

"Well, I had a rat I named Scabbers as a child."

"See? I bet you liked him."

"Yes, well, it turned out that he was actually the Animagus form of one of Voldemort's servants."

Audrey stared blankly at him for a few seconds, mouth open, before she swallowed and replied weakly, "Well, what are the odds of that happening _twice_?"

Percy slowly turned his head to watch the cat, who was licking his paw. He shot Percy a disdainful look. "I don't know, Audrey…" Percy said, unnerved by the human-like emotion.

"Oh, c'mon, Perce," Audrey pouted. "You aren't going to make me put Lotus out on the street, are you?"

_Oh great, she's named the thing, _Percy thought grumpily. But when he saw the pleading look in Audrey's beautiful hazel eyes, he knew he couldn't saw no. "Well," he grumbled grudgingly. "It's better than a dragon, I suppose."

Audrey let out a yelp of joy and threw her arms around him. Percy smiled in spite of his grumpiness. "Where did you get, er, Lotus?" he asked finally.

Audrey removed her arms. "He was living around the Reserve. I've been feeding him for a while, and yesterday he just…came home with me! He's the most absolutely brilliant cat I've ever seen."

Percy put an arm around her shoulders, looking around the new flat, his face breaking into a huge grin as he realized what they were doing. Surveying _their_ flat, watching _their_ new cat.

"What?" Audrey asked, no doubt noticing his stupid smile. "Are you okay?"

"Most definitely," Percy replied happily. "Now, care to show me around this place?"

* * *

_221 Baker Street is Sherlock Holmes' flat number. Another nerdy literature reference for Percy and Audrey! Review, please? _


	7. Liars and Cowards

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Sorry for the late update, but I've had some giant projects in school lately. I'll try to update more often, I promise. _

_Look out for the chapter, "**Weasley's Wizard Wheezes**", which should go up this weekend._

Chapter 7

Percy could feel movement in the darkness as he awoke. He rolled over onto his side in the warm bed, groping for his glasses. He slipped them onto his nose just in time to make out Audrey stumbling out of their bed. She walked over to her suitcase—which she had dumped on the floor until she had time to unpack—and began pulling out clothes and changing. Percy smiled at her as Audrey turned to see that he was awake.

"Sorry," she whispered, smiling apologetically. "I have to go to the Reserve early today. I didn't mean to wake you I up."

Percy shook his head, sitting up. "There's no need to worry. Now that I'm awake, I suppose I might as go into the Ministry and get a couple of hours of work done before breakfast…"

Audrey rolled her eyes. "That's what I was afraid of." Percy watched silently for a moment as she slipped on her heavy, steel-tipped boots and began to walk across the flat. She paused halfway to the door, biting her lip uncertainly. "Hey, Perce?" Audrey began uneasily.

Percy sat up a little straighter, unused to hearing her sound so doubtful. "Yes?"

"I really enjoyed spending time with your family," she said slowly.

"Okay…"

"And I was wondering…" Audrey took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for something. "I don't have a very big family. It's just me and my mom; I think I told you that?"

Percy nodded. She had told him earlier that her only living family was her mother who lived in the States; her father died before she was born.

"Yeah. My dad was actually a pureblood, British wizard; did I tell you that part?" Percy shook his head, surprised. "That was the main reason I chose to come over here after my issues with the American Government of Magic. But, anyway, what I'm getting at here is: how would you feel about meeting my mom?"

Percy blinked in surprise—why was Audrey so uncertain about asking him that? "Of course I'd love to, Audrey—I dragged you to a meeting of the Weasley brigade, didn't I? It's the least I can do in repayment."

Audrey smiled, although she didn't look completely relieved. "Thank you. You know, I wrote her about you during the war, and after."

"Did you?" Percy felt a knot of nervousness in his stomach, suddenly having to live up to the expectations of his girlfriend's mother. "What, uh, what did she think?"

"She thought I was making you up," Audrey replied with a grin. "Although that might come from the fact I haven't brought a guy home since I was nineteen."

"Well, I'll be happy to meet your mum," Percy said. "Whenever you want, I'll be ready."

Audrey grinned a little bit. "Great, thanks." Percy watched as she reached the door, pulling it open and stepping outside. Right before she closed it after her, Audrey said, "But I have to warn you, she's a handful."

Percy smirked playfully. "Oh, is that where you get it from?"

Audrey stuck her tongue out at him as she stepped out of the flat. "See ya later, Perce."

Percy leaned back in their bed as the door closed, deciding to rest for a few minutes more before getting up to go to work. He looked around their small, two-room flat that Audrey had sparsely furnished with a bed, couch, desk and some bookshelves. He would have to remember to move in all his things from his Ministry-provided housing…

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

Percy leapt up in shock, hand automatically flying for his wand at the noise. He breathed out a sigh of relief to see it was just an owl, rapping his foot on the window. Hermes gave a slightly scornful hoot from his perch in the corner, as if he was annoyed at the presence of another owl. Percy walked slowly over to the window, unlatching it and letting in the large Great Gray. Percy recognized a Ministry owl when he saw one, and wondered what he was being owled about. He plucked the scroll attached to the owl's foot off, hurrying over to the other room of their flat and grabbing some bread to offer to the owl.

As the Great Gray munched away, he unrolled the scroll and read the letter.

_Percy—_

_I'm sorry to be owling you so early, but we have a situation here that I could use your help on. Do you think you could come in to the Ministry? _

_Kingsley Shacklebolt (Minister of Magic)_

Percy blinked in surprise, and then felt his chest swell with pride. The Minister had actually written a letter requesting his presence—handwritten! He knew very well that the Minister rarely wrote letters to their staff by hand; he himself had written the majority of Fudge and Scrimgeour's memos. He was about to hurry to change and apparate to the Ministry, but a loud _meow _made him freeze in his tracks. Percy turned to face the noise, seeing Lotus sitting on the floor, watching him with intelligent green eyes.

"Er…" Percy cleared his throat, feeling excessively stupidly addressing a cat. "Do you need something?"

Percy would've sworn that Lotus rolled his eyes. And then the cat flicked his golden tail toward one of the cabinets in the room. Percy slowly walked over to it— because he had no idea what else to do—and pulled it open. He blinked in surprise to see that Audrey had already put some food inside it—cat food, to be exact. Percy scrambled around the kitchen until he found a bowl, and then filled it with the food and placed in down in front of the cat.

Seeming to be satisfied, Lotus sat down next to the door and began eating. Percy was glad to have managed to keep the unnerving cat happy. He grabbed his wand, changed and then disapparated, appearing seconds later in the Atrium. The usual bustle wasn't present, probably because it was so early.

And Magic is Might was completely gone, Percy noticed. Voldemort's influence had finally been eradicated from the Atrium. Percy could only hope it was gone from the rest of the Ministry as well…

Percy looked around the room, seeing the only other three occupants. Kingsley having what looked like a serious conversation with two Aurors. He hurried over, catching the tail end of their conversation.

"…all we're getting from him is that he didn't do anything, which doesn't make sense," one of the Aurors was saying, rubbing his hand over his face tiredly. "I don't know what to make of it."

Kingsley sighed, and opened his mouth to respond when he caught sight of Percy behind him. "Percy!" he said loudly, causing the Aurors to turn around to face him. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Of course, sir," Percy replied immediately. "What can I help you with?"

"I'm sure you're aware of the situation we're having with Azkaban?" Kingsley asked, and Percy nodded. He had been keeping himself up to date with all the current problems facing the Ministry, meticulously reading every memo issued by every department. "We've decided that we'll be holding Death Eaters and other captured criminals at Nurmengard."

Percy blinked in surprise. The prison which had been used by Grindelwald and then later allotting for him and his supporters? "Really, sir?"

Kingsley nodded. "Yes. I called you because I need someone to go over the details with the representative they've sent. I read in your file that while you worked for the Department of International Magical Cooperation you had many meetings with national representatives. I was hoping you could assist Auror Verus—" he nodded his head at the shorter of the two Aurors, a man with clipped, light brown hair, "—with the diplomatic niceties. The man is waiting on one of the lower levels."

"Yes, sir," Percy replied eagerly. He had gotten quite good at such meetings; he was adept at the subtle art of diplomacy, and, more importantly, knowing when he was being lied to.

"Excellent," Kingsley replied, clapping his palms together. "Justinian here"—he pointed to the taller Auror—"is running interrogations of suspected Death Eaters."

Percy followed, rapt with attention, behind Kingsley and the two Aurors as they entered the lifts and descended slowly to the lower levels.

Their group paused as they passed a small courtroom with an open door. A man was being interrogated by several Aurors inside. Percy recognized with a flash of rage Robert Selwyn, a bastard he knew to be a Death Eater who had worked within the Ministry to punish muggle-borns and blood traitors.

"Did you host rigged hearings to criminalize muggle-borns?" The Auror asked Selwyn, his voice echoing in the near empty courtroom.

Selwyn shook his head. "No, I never did. I have no problems with muggle-borns."

"He's lying!" Percy burst out before he could stop himself, outrage running through him. He had heard Selwyn and his disgusting friends use all sorts of vile slurs against muggle-borns, seen him incriminate countless wizards and witches just for being the first in their family line to get a wand.

Justinian glanced at Percy with a touch of annoyance on his face. "He's under the influence of Veritaserum, kid. He can't be lying, that's the point."

Percy shook his head, gritting his teeth. He _knew_ he wasn't wrong. "I filed reports regarding the monstrosities that man enacted towards innocent people. And besides, didn't you see the way half of his face twitched when he said 'muggle-borns'? That was barely concealed contempt!"

The other Auror, Verus, frowned, drawing his bushy eyebrows together. "Well, maybe he doesn't like muggle-borns. That doesn't mean he was actively running the persecutions during the war. We can't punish people for their views, just their actions."

"But the point of Veritaserum is that you can't conceal _anything_, including emotions," Percy countered, adjusting his glasses. Kingsley and Justinian nodded, agreeing with his point. It boosted Percy's confidence. "It must be a faulty batch of Veritaserum," he concluded. "You should brew a new batch and re-administer."

Justinian shook his head. "Impossible. We triple-checked for validity. It worked on our own men when we tested it."

"Well, that man is lying," Percy maintained adamantly.

Kingsley rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking pained. He heaved a deep sigh. "There were rumors," he said slowly, "that the Death Eaters had devised a potion that, if drunk every day, would grant the drinker immunity to all truth potions and spells." Kingsley looked over at the ineffective interrogation. "It would seem that they were truer than we had wanted to believe."

Percy felt his mouth go dry. What could they possibly do now? Veritaserum had been for years the only tactic the Ministry could use to get the truth out of detainees. If the Death Eaters had developed a way to lie even under its influence…

"Could we get a Legilimens, then?" Verus suggested.

Percy shook his head. "I've actually looked into that, sir. It will be exceedingly difficult to find a Legilimens we can trust, given that Legilimency is primarily a Dark Art."

"Well, that only leaves us with one option, doesn't it?" Justinian said darkly, crossing his arms. His steely gaze flitted between Percy, Kingsley and the other Auror. "I've been saying it for weeks, Minister. You have to legalize the use of the Cruciatus Curse on suspected Death Eaters."

Percy couldn't suppress his gasp as it escaped his lungs. How could an Auror suggest something like that?

Kingsley's face darkened. "I will not condone the use of torture," he responded, voice cold, "even on Death Eaters. You are dismissed, Justinian."

The Auror's eyes widened in shock. "But—"

"I've changed my mind—you will attend the meeting and Verus and Percy will take over the interrogations," Kingsley interrupted calmly, gesturing down the corridor. "Go. Nurmengard's representative is waiting."

Realizing that he had been forcibly dismissed, Justinian gave a final frown and set off. Kingsley dragged a hand tiredly over his face, looking incredibly serious, and, well, old. Percy turned to him questioningly. "Are you sure you want me to stay with Verus, sir? What about the Nurmengard meeting?"

Kingsley shook his head. "I'll get someone else to do that with Justinian. Every interrogator should have a partner with them. Have him sit in on your interrogations, okay, Richard? It'll be good to have someone who worked in the Ministry during the war." The Auror nodded, and Kingsley returned it before striding off back to the lifts.

The Auror turned to face Percy. He extended his hand. "Richard Verus."

Percy grasped the offered hand, shaking it firmly. "Percy Weasley."

Verus smiled. "I knew your father, Percy. But I didn't know you received Auror training."

Percy shook his head, feeling his cheeks color uncomfortably. "I didn't. But as the Minister said, I did work in Thicknesse's office. I can provide unique information regarding these suspects," Percy added pompously, trying to recover.

Verus shot him a strange look in response to his tone. "Well, as long you can help, I guess."

Percy felt a sinking feeling in his chest. _Brilliant, _Percy thought to himself, _I've been working with this man for ten seconds and I've already managed to make a bad impression. Bloody brilliant. _

The Auror drew in a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Kingsley definitely made the right call pulling Justinian, though. Honestly, can you believe that man?"

Percy just shook his head. "People just don't seem to realize we at the Ministry can't compromise our values for _anything_, or else we risk losing much more."

Verus raised his eyebrows, for a second Percy feared he'd said something utterly ridiculous. Then the man smiled. "Couldn't have put it better myself," he glanced back into the interrogation room. "I guess we should start."

Nervousness welled in Percy's chest as Verus lead him inside. The other Aurors who had been interrogating Selwyn left, still looking incredibly frustrated. Percy sat down on one of the tables across from the chair where the Death Eater sat.

"All right then," Verus said, looking at Selwyn with disgust. "Let's get to it."

* * *

Several hours and five Death Eaters (all liars, somehow immune to Veritaserum) later, Percy watched as Travers was led away, hopefully to Nurmengard, if the negotiations went through. He'd have to remember to check up on the meeting's progress. Maybe after they were done here he could—

"Percy?"

Percy turned around in his chair to face the exclamation of shock. He himself was surprised to see Harry and Hermione walking into the courtroom. "What are you doing here?" Harry continued.

"I'm assisting with the interrogations," Percy replied immediately, straightening his glasses. "Why are you here?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a long, meaningful glance. "I wanted to act as a witness of sorts for the next suspect, I suppose," Harry said finally.

Percy frowned. "These aren't court cases, Harry. There are no witnesses. And besides, for whom would you want to—"

He broke off as the next potential Death Eater was walked into the room. His jaw quite nearly dropped.

It was Narcissa Malfoy. Her blond hair was unusually dark and limp, and there were sleep-deprivation marks under her eyes as dark as bruises. She kept her blue eyes locked on the ground as she was lead to the defendant's chair. The complete difference from how proud and elegant she had looked visiting her husband at the Ministry in the years prior was striking. Percy turned in his chair, shooting Harry and Hermione a questioning look. They made no reply and sat down on a stone bench on the far side of the room.

Trying to ignore their enigmatic presence, Percy turned back to face Narcissa Malfoy. As Verus cleared his throat loudly, about to start the questioning, she looked up. Her eyebrows were up and drawn together, her face covered with fear. It didn't take a genius to see she was terrified.

"Name?" Verus asked. Percy leaned in close and watched her face intently as Verus went through the usual inane string of questions that they already knew the answer to at the beginning of the interrogation. Percy dully made notes on a spare scrap of parchment he'd found in his robes.

"Did you and your husband allow Voldemort—" she flinched "—to operate out of your home?"

"Yes." Narcissa's gaze dropped again. Shame.

"And prisoners of the Death Eater's were kept and tortured in your home?"

"Yes." Her gaze didn't lift from the table.

"Did you ever torture any of them yourself?"

"No," she whispered faintly. Percy looked at Verus, and his expression clearly stated what Percy was thinking: this was useless. They were getting nothing from the monosyllabic, barely responsive woman.

Suddenly Percy leaned forward, an idea jumping into his head. "Did _Draco_ ever torture them? Did he ever murder any of them?"

Narcissa's head flew up. "No!" she practically screamed, a huge contrast to her previous muted answers. "He never did, never wanted to! It was _me_, _I_ was a coward, I couldn't say no to the Dark Lord when he asked…. It wasn't Draco's fault, none of this was his fault…" she dissolved into tears.

Verus looked at Percy with surprise. Percy was about to lean over and whisper into his ear, but decided he'd better say it aloud. "She's telling the truth about that."

Narcissa nodded wildly. "He's a good boy, you can't put him in prison, he was forced to help the Death Eaters…"

"What about _you_?" Verus questioned hostilely. "You joined them voluntarily, didn't you? You served Voldemort because you believed in his message of hatred and bigotry."

"She saved my life!" Harry suddenly burst out, causing everyone in the room to look at him in shock. "Voldemort tried to kill me, but I was still alive and she knew it but she still told him I wasn't. She lied to him and saved my life, saved _everyone_."

_She did? _Percy look at Narcissa Malfoy in shock. Verus had a similar expression on his face. "She doesn't deserve to go to prison, none of the Malfoys do," Harry finished quietly, looking at his feet.

"I think we should give her the Veritaserum," Verus said a moment after Harry's outburst. "I have a feeling it will work."

And it did. She was the first suspect all day not to be immune to it. After Percy and Verus had carefully made note of everything she said, she was lead away.

"I think we're done for the day," Verus told Percy, leaning back and stretching. "Go get some breakfast, or, er, lunch," he amended sheepishly, checking his watch.

Percy nodded, standing up and striding out of the room. Harry and Hermione, after exchanging a few words with the departing Verus, followed.

"What's going to happen to her?" Harry asked him as they reached the corridor.

Percy shook his head. "I don't know, Harry," he sighed. "I'm not an Auror."

"But you're helping them," Hermione pointed out. "I asked."

Percy shrugged, adjusting his glasses. "I'm documenting the proceedings and supplementing the interrogations with the information I amassed personally during the war." They stared blankly at him. "Truthfully, I'm filling in as an assistant to Verus," he added, feeling too exhausted and drained to work up anymore pride in the position.

There were several moments of exceedingly awkward silence. A couple Aurors walked by, and they nodded respectfully at Harry. Sometimes Percy forgot that the nervous little boy who had asked him if Albus Dumbledore was mad was now a national hero…

"You're supposed to speak to a group of Aurors in a few minutes, Harry," Hermione said suddenly.

"Oh, right. See you later, then, Hermione, Percy." Percy waved lamely as the Boy Who Lived set off down the hall to lecture a group of men and women with twice his age and schooling but half his experience with fighting Dark wizards.

"You should go to the shop, Percy," Hermione told him, a sad smile spreading across her face. "Ron and George are there. They could use your help. You know how lousy they are with finances and the like. "

It was almost like an olive branch, a gesture of understanding that was better than he could have hoped for. Percy nodded slowly. "Maybe I should."

Hermione's smile became happier. "Good. See if you can get the Minister to let you go early. I'm sure you've been working hard enough."

"Yeah, yeah, I have," Percy replied, more to himself than to Hermione. It was time that he started helping his family.


	8. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: I really apologize for the long wait for this update. But now finals are over and my computer is virus-free, so hopefully I'll be back on track and doing weekly updates. _

Chapter 8 

Diagon Alley was entirely different than how it had been during the war, and it gave him hope that things were normalizing. The stores that had been boarded up were reopened, the streets cleaned, and where wandless souls had once begged for their loved ones stations were now set up by the Ministry and St. Mungo's offering help to anyone who needed it. People who actually seemed to be enjoying themselves were again present in the Alley. Percy's face broke into a sad smile as he wandered down the street, remembering how much wonder this place had aroused in him as a child. It looked like it was back on track to evoking similar emotions from the next generation of young wizards and witches.

But there were signs that the wizarding haven had yet to recover as well. There weren't nearly as many wizards and witches wandering in and out of the shops as Percy remembered, and nearly no children. Fortescue's ice cream place was sealed up to stay, and the shop that had once been the brightest and most outrageous in the Alley was still closed.

Percy walked slowly down the street, taking in every storefront, every happy shopper, savoring any semblance of normalcy because he knew that where he was going would contain no such comfortable footing. As Percy reached the door to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, he stopped and took a moment to collect his thoughts.

When Percy had heard the twins had dropped out of Hogwarts in the middle of their final year, he had been furious, but not surprised. They had shown their disturbing lack of respect for their education many times. But when he learned they'd opened a successful shop, he'd been completely shock, more than a little intrigued, and…proud? The next time he was in Diagon Alley, Percy had been sure to find an excuse to walk past his little brothers' place of business…and had been absolutely mortified. U-No-Poo? He was amazed, honestly, that they had survived that first year. But the magic behind their gimmicky products… it certainly proved that they could have done far better on their O.W.L.s, if they had put any effort whatsoever into their studies.

But now the windows of the shop were magically darkened, and Percy wondered what it was like inside. He knew that the twins, like all the other Weasleys, had had to go into hiding last year. The twins were forced to abandon their thriving business. At best, Percy supposed, it had sat untouched and gathering dust for months. At worst, it had been ransacked by the Death Eaters.

Slowly, Percy raised his fist and knocked on the door. He heard a soft scuffing noise from inside, and then the door was flung open to bring him face to face with Ron. Percy was momentarily stunned to realize that his youngest brother was now as tall as him—no, a few centimeters taller.

Ron's blue eyes widened in surprise upon seeing Percy. "What are _you_ doing here?" Ron demanded harshly.

Percy drew himself up to his full height, trying not to let the anger in Ron's voice phase him. "Hermione told me you could use some help here," he responded awkwardly. "I thought I might offer my assistance."

Ron's eyes glinted with suspicion. "Where did you see Hermione?"

"At the Ministry. I took the rest of the day off to help out here."

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but George appeared in the doorway and cut him off. "Then come on in, Perce, and get to work."

Ron scowled slightly, but stepped aside and let Percy through. Percy moved forward, and his jaw dropped.

The walls were scorched and covered in deep gouges. Broken shelves had strewn their contents on the floor, amongst chunks of broken wall and plaster. Two spilled potions had underwent some sort of chemical reaction upon touching, burning a hole in the floor. Boxes of

Daydream charms had broken open, releasing a pinkish haze into the air that made Percy feel vaguely light-headed. What he guessed was a Peppermint Imp colony had taken over a sizable portion of the candy display, along with Edible Dark Marks that seemed to be fluorescing green as they decayed. Little wooden hanged men were dangling from various surfaces, swinging in a nonexistent breeze. Nearly every product left untended had wrecked some sort of havoc.

George knocked him from his daze as he hefted a large onto the counter, dropping it with a loud _thunk! _Percy saw that it contained love potion bottles with the liquids inside in various states of pinkish congealment.

"Salvage anything that can be used," George instructed. "Destroy anything that's an immediate health risk. Everything else can wait."

There were several loud bangs and flashes. "What the bloody hell was that?" Percy shouted, covering his ears.

"Decoy Detonators!" Ron yelled back, snatching what looked ridiculously like a butterfly net from the counter and chasing after a couple of bizarre, black, horn-type objects that were scuttling across the floor. Percy felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to laugh.

"You can start in the back room," George said as he watched Ron swing the net wildly and stumbling forward. Percy turned, pushing forward into the darker, smaller room of the shop that George had indicated. As he walked, thick black dust swirled around him. He coughed and wiped it off his glasses before lighting his wandtip.

As he raised it, everything amusing about the state of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes evaporated. Percy felt his chest tighten.

BLOOD TRAITORS was scrawled in green across the wall, cutting deep gashes into the wooden panels. Percy gaped in horror at the mark of hatred.

"We can't remove it," George said quietly behind him. His gaze was decidedly set anywhere but on the wall. "The magic is too strong."

"I think, uh…" Percy trailed off weakly, swallowing. "I know a more powerful spell." He lifted his wand and muttered, "Mundo."

The shimmering emerald letters slowly dissipated. Percy glanced sideways and saw relief wash over George's face. Then his little brother quickly struggled to arranged his features into a passive, emotionless mask. "Can you siphon up some of this Peruvian Darkness Powder?"

Percy nodded and proceeded to do so. As he worked, Percy saw George peer out into the main room of the shop. Ron was currently staggering around the mess, trying to dislodge a dozen or so stubborn Pygmy Puffs from his hair. Then his little brother closed the door, shutting them together in darkness-choked room. Percy blinked in shock, relighting his wandtip. George did the same.

"George, what are you…?" Percy let the question trail off as he saw the look in George's eyes. It was pensive, and disturbingly intense. He had never seen that expression on his carefree little brother before. "Are you…okay?" he asked stupidly, unsure of what else he _could_ do.

George watched Percy's increasingly nervous face for a few seconds before nodding slowly. After a few more awkward minutes, George finally spoke in a strangled voice. "I've been thinking about…Fred… a lot," he choked out.

Percy mouth went immediately dry. Since when was George talking about Fred? He hadn't uttered a word about his twin since the funeral, and no one was willing to push him to. And why in the name of Merlin was he talking to _Percy_ about him? They'd never gotten along, _ever_… George never talked to him about anything important before, _ever_…

"I remember…the night of the battle," George mumbled, head down. "Fred and I had split up…he was, uh, covering the top floors and I was taking the dungeons." George drew a deep shaking breath, turning his wet eyes to stare at the floor. Percy, on the other hand, couldn't take his eyes off his brother; he was so absolutely terrified at what George was getting into here. "I was… as far away from him as possible, on the other side of the castle…but I still— I still knew it when he died. I _felt_ it." Silent tears were slipping down George's pale cheeks, and his voice was unnaturally rough and shaky. "It was like my heart…_froze,_ and everything hurt all at once."

A cold, hard ball formed in Percy's chest. He tried to say something comforting, but his throat had sealed up and nothing but a strangled noise came out. George took no notice.

"And I remember… I remember this time in my second year," George continued, words tumbling out one over the other, distorted by his tears. "I was in detention with McGonagall, and…Fred was at Quidditch practice." George let out a mangled sort of laugh. "It was probably the only time one of us was in detention without the other. I don't even remember what I did…" he trailed off, and was silent for nearly a minute, as if struggling to recall the memory. "But, anyway, I was writing lines in Transfiguration, and Fred was practicing Quidditch with the team." George wiped lackadaisically at the tears running down his face, and took a deep breath, as if he was steeling himself to go on. "And then all of a sudden I felt this _pain _in my shoulder, this shooting, deep pain and I knew Fred had been hurt. So I, uh, I ditched McGonagall and I ran out to the pitch as fast as I could. But," George finally lifted his gaze to meet Percy's. His eyebrows pulled together slightly, like he was confused about something. "You were already there, Perce, unleashing hell's fury on Wood for his unsafe coaching techniques. Honestly, I was afraid he was going to break your neck." George smiled almost imperceptively. "And I always wanted to ask you—how did you get there so quickly?"

Percy let out a slow, shaky breath. He didn't even realize was crying until his glasses fogged up. In an automatic movement, he took them off and wiped them on his robes. The world went momentarily blurry, and went he put them back on the first thing he saw clearly was George staring at him with wide eyes. "I was…" he swallowed heavily. "I happened to be walking past the pitch to get to the greenhouses. I saw it happen."

George let out a watery chuckle. "Liar."

He was, of course, right. The statement, if not a total lie, was a definite omission of the truth. And Percy decided that it was time to tell the whole truth about something for once. George deserved as much. "I was nervous. I was watching the practice, to make sure Fred was okay."

George blinked and wiped at his face again, seeming confused. "But…we'd been at loads of practices before. You never showed up at any of those."

"That's true," Percy murmured.

"So why this one?" George asked.

"Because…because it was only _Fred_ there. I always worried about both of you, but I knew that if you two were at least together, you'd be safe. You'd keep each other Fred was alone, so I wanted to make sure he was okay." The words made Percy wince.

"But you were always alone, Perce," George replied quietly. Percy didn't know what to think about that.

Several minutes passed in silence. George had stopped crying, and was wiping the tears from his face. There was a faraway look in his eyes, like he was trying to work out a problem that had been troubling him for a while. Percy fought down a sneeze as Peruvian Darkness Powder went up his nose.

Finally, the corners of George's lips twitched upward. "You know, Perce," he said quietly, with just the barest tone of playfulness in his voice. "I didn't work on _Potterwatch _as much as Fred did, but he told me about it."

Percy stared back at his brother, uncomprehendingly.

"He told me about this time after Easter when they crossed signals with a station on the Wizard Underground," George continued. "And you were there, at the station, monitoring the radio."

Percy remembered the conversation well. It had left him with a tight ball of something indescribable in his stomach for many days afterward.

"We talked about it a while, wondering how you had ended up there. We were never sure. We both sort of thought…that maybe…you had stepped up. We heard lots of story about muggle-borns escaping punishment from the Ministry, and everyone knew that there had to be a man on the inside helping them. We had hoped….But when that woman showed up, looking for her kids…" the smile on George's face spread. "You worked on the Wizard Underground. Smuggled muggle-borns out of the country." George stared directly into Percy's face, a kind of hopefulness in his eyes.

Percy's heart pounded at his little brother's words, trying to imagine the twins, speculating about him late at night, after a _Potterwatch _broadcast. He knew from Pertinax that his efforts during the war had been recognized, but he never actually believed that a member of his family would ever even _think_ that he had been acting against the Ministry….

Percy stared into George's hopeful eyes and wondered if he could possibly be a hero to one of his siblings. He nodded slowly.

And then George actually _grinned_, from ear to ear. "I _knew _it. For how long?"

"Since… Bill's wedding, I guess," Percy replied, completely unfamiliar with the guileless smile, devoid of maliciousness or mischievousness.

"_Damn_, Perce. _Damn!_" George laughed, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. His face was still shimmering with tears, but the change in his emotion was clear. It was enough to make Percy feel like grinning as well. "I can just picture you creeping around the Ministry, evading the Death Eaters, stealing the defenseless muggle-borns out of their evil clutches!"

Percy actually, genuinely laughed at his little brother's enthusiasm. "It wasn't that glamorous of a job, I assure you."

"C'mon! I bet it was brilliant. You were like a double agent, operating against the system when they all thought you were working for them!"

"Well, there was a dragon involved. And a fair few duels against Death Eaters." Percy mockingly boasted. It was so good to be looked up to, for once!

George howled with laughter. "God_damn_, you have to let me be there when you tell the family. I can't wait to see the looks on their faces."

"I do plan to tell them, you know. I'm just waiting for a good time." Percy said, running a hand through his hair. He was still slightly worried about that—he had promised Audrey he would tell the truth to his family, now he just had to _do _it. Why was it so hard…? The idea that without the proof Fred and George had, they wouldn't believe him?

"Hey, Perce." Percy broke himself away from his worry to look at George. "I'm proud of you."

Percy's jaw dropped, and then his heart swell with pride. It was… the first time that anyone in his family besides his mum had actually told him that.

"I'm proud of you too, Geor—"

There was a low rumble like thunder and then a loud _CRASH!_ Percy and George immediately ran into the main room, where Ron was heading for the door. There was another loud crash and the entire world seemed to jerk sideways. Panicked screams rang in his ears. Smoke poured into the shop from under the door. Percy barely managed to stay on his feet as panic stabbed through his stomach and he staggered out into the street.

* * *

Audrey shouldn't have lied to Percy. She _knew _that it was misguided and stupid and deceitful. And the worst part was he had fallen for it so easily. Accepted her uneasiness as nervousness about him meeting her mother, not about lying to his face. The man who had for months evaded Death Eaters detection while smuggling fugitives to safety out from under their noses, who prided himself on his ability to pick a lying diplomat out of a crowd (and could do it quite well) had fallen for her lie, hook, line and sinker. And it was such a _stupid _thing to lie about. Percy would have understood. Percy would have offered all the political help he could, and a shoulder to lean on.

But there would have been pity in his eyes. The look that an adult gets when a child is prattling on about how happy their old, beloved dog must be on the " big farm" they'd sent him to when he got sick.

"I'm sorry, Miss."

Audrey was jolted from her thoughts by the voice. She shifted in the uncomfortable wooden chair she was perched on and looked into the tired, apologetic face of the clerk. "We have no record of anyone with the name Ayden Carter or the description you gave us."

Audrey felt her heart drop into her stomach. She had to fight to keep her voice steady as she replied, "Oh, okay. Th-thanks for looking."

"If you leave contact information, we can send you an owl if we find anything," the clerk offered. Looking at the man's lined face and graying hair, Audrey reflected that he couldn't be more than 35. The war had prematurely aged everyone, it seemed. Percy probably hadn't noticed it yet, and Audrey wasn't about to say anything, but even some of his brilliant red strands of hair had begun to turn gray.

"Okay." Audrey picked up a quill from the clerk's desk and scrawled her name and address shakily on a scrap piece of parchment. The man filed it away in a drawer with a flick of his wand and smiled comfortingly at her before hurrying off to help the next person.

Heart heavy, Audrey trudged away from the desk, sitting down onto a worn couch shoved against the wall. She dropped her hand into her hands, trying to collect herself. It had been months since Ayden had been taken, and weeks since Voldemort was killed. And yet Ayden hadn't been found, alive or…

Audrey knew that both Percy and Lynn had given up on finding him. Probably a long time ago. But Audrey refused to give up hope. They didn't know Ayden as well as she had, hadn't been friends with him for years like she had. They just didn't get it.

She glanced to her right as a woman as few years older than her sat beside her. The woman smiled sadly at her. "Who are you looking for?" the woman asked.

"A friend," Audrey murmured.

"I'm looking for my brother and his children," the woman said, sounding slightly nervous as she looked around the room. "He married a muggle woman and so the children were targeted during the war. He took them and his wife away to Scotland, but…"

Audrey zoned out as the woman continued to talk anxiously about her family. She felt kind of bad about not listening to the poor woman, who was obviously anxious about her family, but she couldn't concentrate anyway. So she sat and replayed her conversation with Percy over and over in her mind, feeling guiltier every time. Audrey had lied to Percy, but she did want him to meet her mother. She was actually worried that her mom would decide she was tired of waiting and hop on the next plane to London. The thought of her muggle mother wandering around trying to find the Ministry of Magic almost brought a smile to her face. Almost.

Audrey looked around the small office at the people milling about it. They were all as upset as her, some fighting back tears and others not even bothering to try as they received bad news from the battered, exhausted clerk.

When these offices had first been set up by the Ministry, they had been happy places where people came to be reunited with loved ones. But as the weeks wore on, they became more and more depressing as it became less and less likely that people would find the ones they were looking for.

As Audrey watched, a young man phased through the magical wall and stepped into the office. This particular one was placed in a muggle shopping center and could be entered through a wall that, like the one in front of St. Mungo's, could be walked through.

But the magical nature of the place made it very difficult for muggles, even those with directions, to find, and these offices was supposed to be accessible to muggles looking for magical relatives. She would have to talk to Percy about making them easier for muggles to get to…

But then Percy would ask what she was doing at one of the offices, and she would no doubt receive that dreaded look of pity.

Audrey noticed that the young man was saying something, loudly, that was getting the attention of everyone in the office. People were beginning to look panicked, terrified. Those who had been on the edge of tears minutes ago were now openly sobbing. Several had run out of the building altogether.

Audrey leapt to her feet. "What happened? What's going on?" she demanded.

The young man whipped around to face her, soot flying from his robes. Blood ran down his face from a cut on his forehead. "Diagon Alley is being attacked by Death Eaters!" he wailed.


	9. The Impossible

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

Chapter 9 

Audrey apparated at the mouth of Knockturn Alley, wand already out, half-expecting to appear in the middle of a fight on the same scale of the Battle of Hogwarts.

But there was only one duel going on in the street, around the overturned carts that had been set up by St. Mungo's. She could only make out the swirl of a black cloak and lime-green robes. Fear stabbed through Audrey's stomach as she realized that Lynn could have easily been working at one of those stations. At least Percy was safe at the Ministry, although she wouldn't be surprised if he elected to join in on the fight when word reached the Aurors. Especially since one of his brothers owned a shop here.

Audrey charged the duel, casting a stunner at the Death Eater. The Healer with whom he was dueling, an elder, exhausted looking man, doubled over, panting. "Thanks," he gasped, pressing a hard against his heart. Audrey braced a hand on his shoulder, trying to stabilize him.

"Has anyone gone to the Aurors?" Audrey asked, glancing up and down the street as she did so. There were no more Death Eaters, but the place looked ransacked. Broken windows, smashed Ministry stations, burns and gouges from the powerful spells lining the building walls and cobblestones.

The Healer nodded. "One of the others went for help when they first showed up," he straightened up, still panting heavily, struggling for breath. He obviously wasn't in dueling shape. "There were a lot more of them before. The younger Healers had fought them all off and went down the Alley. I stayed to watch the carts. This guy"—he pointed to the unmoving figure on the ground—"just apparated in a couple of minutes ago, by himself."

_Okay, that's weird. _Audrey pushed away her confusion at the Death Eaters mode of attack, resolving to concentrate on the task at hand. "Are you okay?" she asked the Healer.

"I'm fine," the man replied. He looked down the street, seeming worried. "I saw smoke, at the other end of the Alley," he said, seeming worried, pointing at a cloud of dark smoke in the distance. "I think a building must be on fire down there."

Audrey nodded, tightening her grip on her wand. "Okay, okay. Stay here. I'll go check it out." She started jogging down the street.

_Crack! _

Audrey stumbled backward as a Death Eater—decked out in a full-on, flowing black cloak and silver mask—apparated near her. The Death Eater caught sight of her and turned the smooth, almost reptilian mask towards her. For a second, fear froze Audrey's limbs. She hadn't seen a Death Eater dressed for attack like that since the Battle of Hogwarts.

The Death Eater raised his wand, pointing it at her chest.

Audrey regained her senses just in time to shoot off a jinx. The man's body began to spasm wildly as he went down. Audrey quickly leapt over him, and as she did, she refocused her attention on the cloud of smoke rising from a faraway building.

"Shit," she growled under her breath, throwing a hateful glare over her shoulder at the unconscious, jinxed figure lying on the street. What the hell had the Death Eaters done?

"Oh, Merlin," the Healer suddenly whispered, voice thick with terror.

"I know," Audrey mumbled "That must be coming from a gigantic fire." Starting forward again, she tried to remember all the different water-related spells she had learned in Charms class years ago.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Audrey saw the Healer drop to his knees, clutching his heart. "Jesus!" she hissed, immediately running over and dropping to his side. Was he having a heart attack? Audrey pushed two of her fingers into the stubbled flesh on his neck, searching for a pulse.

"Look," the Healer moaned, raising a shaking arm to point at something in the distance. Audrey turned to follow his finger, and pure horror crept through her body.

A green skull was forming in the air, and a snake emerged from the mouth and hissed, a forked tongue flicking out.

The Dark Mark.

Percy had told her that, during the first war, there was nothing more terrifying than seeing that skull and snake over the home of a loved one, or even someone you barely knew. Nothing else could inspire that kind of terror. Adults would often say that anyone who had been a child during the first war couldn't really understand, but Percy claimed that it wasn't possible for even a five year old to forget that kind of fear. The very thought of seeing the Mark, he said, was mind-numbing. He had admitted to her that the sight of it at the Quidditch Cup nearly caused him to collapse.

Screams began to fill the air as people caught sight of the Dark Mark. Audrey knew that most of those who had stayed to fight the Death Eaters would now be fleeing.

"They said he was gone," the Healer groaned. "For good this time."

He was talking about Voldemort. "Voldemort _is_ dead," Audrey said softly, hating the way the Healer flinched at the name. "It's his supporters that we have to worry about." Because apparently the Ministry's claim that nearly all of them had been captured was wrong.

* * *

Percy waved wildly at the smoke in the air as crackling flames consumed the building in front of him. Red and orange wavering towers of fire stretched into the air above, throwing off plumes of smoke. His mind tried entirely of its own accord to remember what shop had been there. A Menagerie, an Apothecary…?

George and Ron burst out of the shop and stood next to him, wands out and at the ready. There was a minuscule pause, a second that felt like an hour as they stood there, unmoving, gazing in horror at the scene in front of them.

Screaming witches and wizards were sprinting past, jets and flashes of light springing from their wands and chasing after them as spells flew from the wands of their pursuers. And those pursuers were the ones that frightened Percy the most.

Figures cloaked in black, their very existence filling the air with horror and fear, turning a warm summer afternoon in Diagon Alley to a nightmare. Immediately, Percy remembered the abandoned factory on Christmas morning and Ayden's desperate confession, the torn-up safe house in the woods and Carl's blank eyes, Hogwarts castle and the last time he saw Fred alive…

Percy snapped back to reality as he saw a Death Eater, running straight for them, wand out. There was no time for wondering what was going on or how this had happened, at least not yet. Adrenaline flooded Percy's body as he realized that now was the time to fight.

A flash of green light spun from the Death Eater's wand, spiraling directly at Ron. Without thinking, Percy threw his shoulder into his brother's body, knocking them both unceremoniously to the ground and out of the way. George shot a stunner and the Death Eater went down.

Ron's eyes were wide as he lay sprawled on the ground. Percy, his heart beating painfully against his chest, leapt to his feet, trying to drag Ron up by his shirt. His youngest brother was stammering, "What the hell…?"

"It doesn't matter!" Percy shouted, seizing Ron's arms and yanking him upward. "C'mon!" Making sure George was still next to them, Percy looked wildly around, trying to make out the next threat. His blood ran cold as he realized that there were several Death Eaters coming towards them. Of course. The Weasley red hair was basically a target plastered on her heads, and to Voldemort's remaining followers Ron was one of the three most wanted wizards in the world.

Smoke billowed into the air from the burning building, obscuring Percy's view. He could see blotches of black in the smoky screen, but was afraid to try to curse one because his spell could easily hit an innocent passerby.

"Adspiro ventum!" Percy shouted, pointing his wand forward. A gust of wind wailed through the Alley, blowing the smoke out of air. Soon their whole predicament was visible. The shoppers who had tentatively been reentering the famous hub of wizarding activity that was Diagon Alley were now completely panicked. Some were attempting to fight off the wave of dark figures, but most were too afraid to try, just wanted to get the hell away.

"Stupefy!"

A red jet of light flew from George's wand, knocking the nearest Death Eater to the ground. Percy and Ron quickly joined in, Percy feeling his neglected dueling skills coming back in full force. Soon they were felling Death Eaters like trees. George let out a loud whoop of victory as they cleared the area.

There was a scream somewhere off to their left. Percy whipped around and sprinted to the source of the noise.

_Crack! Crack! Crack! _Percy stopped midstride and staggered backward as three masked Death Eaters apparated directly in front of him. Before he could cast a single curse, one of them turned their wand on him and sparks of blue light struck his chest. Percy screamed as they burned like fire through his clothes, and then his flesh. He dropped down onto his knees, managing to shoot off only one stunner before his wand slipped from his grasp.

"PERCY!"

As someone screamed his name, Percy desperately tried to haul himself up, ignoring the holes burning in his torso. The sheer flood of adrenaline coursing through his system was enough to dull the pain, or at least temporarily convince his body that it wasn't important. A hand grabbed the back of his robes and pulled him up, and Percy saw the two remaining Death Eaters had disappeared. He turned around to see George looking fierce, clutching his wand tightly in his fist. Ron ran up to join them. Percy caught sight of another Death Eater over Ron's shoulder. Immediately he summoned his wand and cursed the figure. His mask blew off, and before he hit the ground, Percy caught sight of his face.

"No!" Percy shouted before he could stop himself, pushing past Ron and making for the now unconscious body lying on the pavement. "That's _impossible!_"

George grabbed his arm, trying to hold him back. "Percy!" he yelled above the noise. "We need to go the other way!"

"That's Travers!" Percy shouted as he fought weakly against George's hold on him, pointing his wand at the Death Eater's hauntingly familiar face. "I saw him taken to prison a few hours ago! This is _impossible_!"

People were streaming past them, wands out, sheer panic at the thought of a new Death Eater movement driving them through their fear. The Ministry stands were toppled over in the cobblestone road, and briefly Percy hoped that this was because the workers had gone to alert the Auror office. But all Percy could think about was the fact that a Death Eater who had been in Ministry custody just hours ago was terrorizing Diagon Alley. His mind couldn't even reconcile it, it didn't make sense…. Had there been an escape from the holding cells? There had been powerful Death Eater leaders in those cells, what would they do if they were out? How was it possible that Ministry security had failed? What if—

"PERCY!" George was shaking his shoulders, and the tone of desperation in his voice was the only thing that dragged Percy out of his hysteria. George was blinking blood out of his eyes, and Percy immediately traced the source to a deep cut above his eyebrows. Relief flooded his little brother's face as their gazes met.

"George! Percy!" Percy and George spun around to see Ron standing in the road, waving smoke out of the air. Near him, a ring of people had formed out the front of the burning building, trying to put out the fire with fountains of water spurting from their wands. "There are people in there!" Ron, along with a few other wizards, was protecting those who were attempting to douse the flames. George ran forward immediately to join him as more Death Eaters appeared with _cracks!_ barely audible over the violent crackling and popping of the fire and the screams of the poor souls trapped within it.

"Aquam edo!" Percy bellowed, and the power of the spell was so strong he had to struggle to keep his hold on his wand. Under the power of everyone's combined spells, the flames soon dissipated, and several wizards were able to rush in and attempt a rescue.

But Percy didn't get a chance to see if they completed that rescue successfully, because at that moment he heard Ron—whose voice he would recognize anywhere—cry out in alarm, and Percy whipped around immediately.

The wizards and witches sprinting up and down the cobblestone streets had digressed into a total frenzy as more and more black-cloaked figures began to appear. Curses were flying in every direction as Percy jumped into the fight. He quickly zeroed in on a target—a hulking, hooded Death Eater with a shiny silver mask—and shot a direct curse at the man's chest that was unsure to miss.

But it did. Not because Percy's aim was off, but because the man disapparated on the spot, and the spell barreled through the space where the Death Eater had stood seconds ago to collide uselessly with the wall of a nearby building. Percy blinked in confusion.

A jolt of panic jumped down Percy's spine as the man reappeared a meter in front of him with a deafening _crack! _He stumbled backward, just managing to fire off a single jinx before the Death Eater could attack him. He dropped to the ground, moaning in agony as his body twisted and distorted into the form of large rodent.

Percy took a step back, surveying the scene and trying to figure out what was going on.

The Death Eaters were apparating and disapparating over and over again, to the point where they barely stayed in place long enough to be dueled with. Their numbers were much fewer than they seemed, Percy realized. The constant movement and the havoc they were wrecking on the buildings just made it look like there were so many of them. Percy's mind immediately jumped to figure out what this meant, but he shoved it down, forcing himself to concentrate on the fight.

Percy engaged himself in a duel with the nearest Death Eater, tying him in first with an Anti-Disapparition Jinx to keep him from fleeing. They exchanged a few volleys of spells before Percy managed to hit him with a neat curse that knocked the Death Eater backward and unconscious. He was pivoting around, searching for a new opponent to challenge, when he several Death Eaters apparated behind him, standing in a line. Before Percy could attack, all of them raised their wands in tandem and pointed them forward. Percy barely had time to register the blast of magical energy rocketing toward him before it blew him off his feet. He hit the ground again, hard, his back exploding in pain as the air was forced from his lungs.

Staring up from the ground, Percy saw the wall of energy continue to sweep over the street, throwing the shoppers and Death Eaters alike in the air. He struggled to flip himself over, stand up and find George and Ron, but the pain sent spasms up his spine that temporarily immobilized him. All he could do was lie there and watch the scene unfold.

The wall of energy collided with the building with an ear-shattering explosion, and the world seemed to shake. The building splintered. The roof slid off, and the windows cracked, spraying shards of glass onto the street. The stone walls began to buckle, and Percy could see they were about fall. He saw a flash of Weasley red hair, standing on a section of street that was about to be buried under a pile of stones.

Percy's vision began to tunnel, sheer blackness growing on the edges of his eyes until all he could see was the spot of red, and then nothing. Suddenly an entirely different scene snapped into his sight.

_He turned his head to see Fred grinning at him, honestly grinning, without guile or deception. Everything seemed safe. _

"_You actually are joking, Perce…. I don't think I've heard you joke since you were—"_

_The air was rent in that second, the world blown apart. The wall of the castle imploded, wreckage flying everywhere and then all he could see was Fred's wide, blank eyes and the laugh on his face…_

Blood ran down Percy's face, still soaked through his shirt from wounds on his chest, and he felt as though his spine had snapped in two. His entire body was coated in dust from the destroyed building, including the insides of his lungs as he struggled for air.

It was absolutely silent.


	10. Not Over

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_**N.B.**__ The dialogue in the beginning of this chapter is kind of confusing. As long as Percy can't hear, stuff in italics is something he is saying or reading off someone's lips. _

Chapter 10

Someone was tugging on him, trying to pull him up. Percy recoiled reflexively and attempted to drag himself away, but when he opened his eyes he saw a frightened face, not a smooth reptilian mask looking down at him. A familiar looking male who looked to be in his late teens was trying to pull him upward. The young man's mouth was moving, Percy realized with a thrill of horror, but he couldn't hear a word the teen was saying. Not a single word. He couldn't hear _any_ noise. Percy raised a shaking hand to touch one ear, wondering if the explosion had rendered him completely deaf.

The teen took a different meaning to his movement and seized the hand, using it to drag him into a standing position. Percy managed to stay on his feet despite the screaming pain in his back. Gasping in pain, Percy looked around the street.

The building the Death Eaters attacked had completely collapsed, broken glass and chunks of stones lying in the street. People were stumbling about like they'd been Confunded, probably suffering from the same hearing loss he was. Percy couldn't see any more Death Eaters…but he also couldn't see any more spots of brilliant red hair. His brothers were gone. Fred's blank eyes flashed in front of his vision and he felt a stab of physical pain through his chest.

Percy summoned his wand, stretching his hand out and feeling a thin stick of wood knock against his fingers. He gripped it tightly as he tried to make his way toward to the point where he saw one of his brothers before the building went down. The young man grabbed his arm, pulling him in the other direction, mouth moving again. Percy did his best to read his lips, seeing that the teen was saying…his name?

Then Percy realized why the young man looked so familiar—he had been one of the first muggle-borns Percy had forged papers for, a student that had been taken out of school by the Death Eaters. His name was Jonathan…or Julius… something with a J.

Percy shoved away Jonathan/Julius and continued staggering towards the wreckage. Remembering that just because he couldn't hear didn't mean he couldn't talk, Percy began to shout over and over again for Ron and George.

Jonathan/Julius grabbed him again, this time more forcefully. Percy stopped shouting (as far as he knew, he still couldn't hear a thing) and turned to face him. Jonathan/Julius was speaking again, and Percy felt a hot prickling of annoyance. Couldn't he tell that Percy was deaf? That he was looking for his brothers, and that was more important than anything else?

_Use small words. Enunciate. _Percy said, hoping that the words were coming out of his mouth correctly. _I can't hear._

Jonathan/Julius' eyes widened in shock and his eyebrows shot up, and it occurred to Percy that he couldn't have been there when the Death Eaters had blown up the building, or else he would have been affected as well. Percy felt dread forming in his stomach. How quickly had people arrived on the scene? How long had he been lying there? It had only felt like a few seconds, but what if it had been longer? What if Ron and George had been hurt or worse while he was just lying stupidly on the ground? The last moments of Fred's life flashed in front of his eyes again and panic clawed at his heart. He desperately tried to shove it down as the thought of one of his brothers being lost in the onslaught of stone threatened to paralyze him.

_Are—you—okay? _Jonathan/Julius mouthed slowly, lips curving unnaturally around each word so Percy could make them out. Percy nodded irritably, finally freeing himself from the teen's grasp with a series of erratic jerks.

_I'm fine. Have you seen my brothers, Ron and George? They have red hair like mine. _

_I know, _Jonathan/Julius seemed to reply, face looking grim and worried. Then Percy realized that he also knew Jonathan/Julius from Hogwarts—he had been one of the muggle-borns attacked by the Basilisk, like Penny. And his name was…Justin Finch-Fletchley! _I—will—look. _

As Justin began to pick around the rubble in search, Percy was hit by a crippling wave of pain induced nausea which, coupled with his mounting panic, was making it very difficult to remain upright. There a high-pitched, distant ringing in his ears—that was good, right? Didn't that mean his hearing was coming back? He certainly hoped so. Percy sucked in several deep, slow breathes, forcing himself to concentrate his energy on finding Ron and George, despite how badly his body wanted to collapse on the street. He pulled his younger brother's faces into the front of his mind, putting them before the pain, and found that defying his body's selfish needs wasn't actually that hard.

_Hominem revelio! _Percy shouted, pointing his wand outward over the debris.

Several human-shaped, pink forms immediately appeared throughout the rubble, beacons signaling human life. Justin quickly dashed to the nearest figure, levitating a slab of stone out of the way and then dropping to his knees and dragging it free. Percy's stomach did an uncomfortable twist when he saw no brilliant red strands of hair, realizing that it wasn't Ron or George but an unfamiliar woman whose face was contorted in pain. Justin gently lifted her up into a sitting position, running his wand over the bloody cuts on her face and body. At the agonized look on the woman's face, guilt quickly coursed through Percy; just because this wasn't Ron or George didn't mean she didn't need saving.

Percy suddenly heard something in the distance and straightened immediately. He tapped his ears agitatedly and snapped his fingers next to them, trying to figure out if his hearing was back. There was a constant buzzing in his ears now.

More people were beginning to converge on the site, picking through the rubble and helping survivors. Percy staggered and lurched over the debris that had once been a section of a thriving icon of the wizarding world, searching for his brothers, trying to see if one of the bodies being extracted had brilliant red hair.

His back and chest were howling in protest at every move, and his head was beginning to pound like there was someone hammering on the inside of his skull. Percy's thoughts that he must look truly pathetic were confirmed every time a rescuer seized his elbow, trying to get him to stop moving, to sit and rest and let them tend his injuries. Percy violently shook them off, shouting curses and angry words that he wasn't sure were actually reaching their ears. These people had their priorities completely wrong; what did Percy matter if Ron and George were hurt, or…. He couldn't lose another brother. There was no way he'd survive, Percy realized.

He was about to shout this revelation at the next person who grabbed his arm when he saw it was Justin again, who was pointing urgently at something. Percy turned to face him again, eager to see if he had found Ron or George. Justin's face was covered with worry and alarm. Feeling cold dread begin to rise in his chest and block his throat, Percy followed Justin's frightened gaze.

A bunch of Healers were beginning to drop to their knees and work on the latest body to be pulled free from the rubble. It was George, but Percy felt no relief, because a huge, sickening, terrifying red gash on George's forehead was gushing crimson, coating his ashen face—his face so identical to Fred's—and running to the dusty stone he was lying on. Percy opened his mouth and felt vibrations in his throat as his body screamed of its own accord. He lunged for his brother, desperate to touch him, to shake him, to make sure he wasn't stiff and cold, only to be held away by a strong Healer. Percy thrashed, desperate to get to his bleeding little brother, hating the Healer for not letting him.

Eventually he relaxed as one of the Healers pulled out a bottle of Dittany and sealed up the wound. A Healer then pressed a bottle of Blood Replenishing Potion to George's lips and soon some of the color returned to his face. Seeing that George was only superficially hurt, that this was nothing like the cold seventh-floor corridor where a nearly indistinguishable face had gone blank and lifeless, the panic coursing through his system eased and he stopped struggling. The Healer restraining him gratefully let go and hurried away to one of the other lime-green bunches surrounding a recovered victim. For a few moments, Percy was left staggering in search of Ron alone amongst the wreckage and panic and swirling of Aurors while the blood from his chest wounds saturated his shirt. Until a person he couldn't hear coming grabbed his arm and twisted him around.

Grim but determined green eyes settled momentarily on his face before beginning an organized scrutiny of his body, searching for injuries.

"Lynn!" Percy shouted as he recognized the familiar face, feeling a weight lifting from his chest he didn't even know was there to see Lynn alive and well. And he heard himself say her name, barely a whisper among the buzzing, dull and muffled, but _there_.

Lynn offered him a short, crisp smile before continuing her examination. He let out an undignified yelp as she ripped his shirt open. Percy bit back a protest as he recognized that she was in Healer mode and tried to stay as still as possible as she probed his painful injuries. Percy hissed as whitish-yellow sparkles sank into the wounds on his chest, but breathed easier as they were healed. Lynn pulled back then, gazing questioningly into his eyes. She waved a hand to indicate her ear, asking, _Can you hear me? _

Percy shook his head and dug what looked like a mini ear trumpet out of one of the many pockets in her lime-green robes. She mimed how to put it on and then handed it to Percy, who gratefully stuck it into his ear and twisted it into place.

"Bloody hell!" Percy gasped, slapping his hands to the sides of his head as the sounds flooded his disused ears. He was suddenly assaulted by the noise—shouts of pain and fear, the barked orders of Healers and Aurors, the shattering and smashing of glass and stone and rescuers levitated the debris to get to people trapped underneath.

Percy felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder and soon he could see Lynn's gaze on him, examining him worriedly. "I'm alright, I'm alright," he insisted, waving her off. "Go help someone else."

Lynn bit her lip before nodding and turning away, heading off to the next patient, the next life needing saving, regardless of her own. While he was silently praying she would be okay, Lynn said something that made all Percy's pain and worry disappear in an instant. "Isn't that Ron?"

Percy whipped around immediately, seeing Ron stumbling up to where George was lying, being attended by Healers. His robes were torn and his face cut up, an ear trumpet like the one Percy had sticking awkwardly out of his ear. He nearly cried with relief to see his youngest brother was okay. No, he _was _crying, because the wetness sliding down his cheeks was too cool to be blood. Percy lurched forward and nearly crashed into Ron, who had knelt by George's side. Ron's bright blue eyes shot up, and Percy felt something warm in his stomach when he saw his own relief reflected in Ron's eyes as their gazes met, instead of the usual anger and bitterness.

"Are you okay?" Percy asked Ron softly. Ron nodded distractedly, attention focused on the stirring George. The Healers receded, satisfied that their job was completed

George had managed to sit up and put on his own ear trumpet, although he was still shaky and pale. As he saw their worried, nervous faces, he smiled. "Hey, I'm fine…Merlin, mates, it was just a building that fell on me…" Ron let out a sort of strangled, choked laugh and Percy wondered if it had been like this when George lost his ear a year ago. Percy again felt a twist of guilt that he hadn't been there, fighting beside his family.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't so easy on the rest of us," Ron muttered, running a hand tiredly through his red hair, shaking dust and dirt onto his shoulders. "I mean, Merlin, I went completely deaf there for a sec—"

Ron broke off in shock as George's eyes widened suddenly in fear as they fixed on a point off to the right. Percy and Ron wheeled around to follow his gaze. Cold terror formed in Percy's stomach, and if he hadn't already been on the ground his knees would have given out beneath him.

The Dark Mark was hovering menacingly above an Apothecary, not far away from where they were huddled on the ground. Percy heard George suck in a sharp gasp of fear, but he knew that both George and Ron were too young, too young to truly remember what the skull and snake represented. Obviously the Aurors did remember, though, because while a knot of them had formed outside the door to the shop, no one had entered to search for the inevitable dead body inside.

Percy _knew_ that Apothecary, he realized; it had been the one they used to go to, before a newer, cheaper one had opened up. Percy remembered going there to buy potions ingredients for his first year of Hogwarts. He had been ecstatic at the time, puffed up with pride and claiming that _he _would be the first Gryffindor that Professor Snape would like. The shopkeeper, an old man with hair just beginning to get gray on the edges, had smiled indulgently at him. Percy recalled the memory, and the man's smile, and wondered if it was this kindly man's death that had warranted the Mark to be cast above his Apothecary. A whimper slipped over his lips at the idea.

Ron glanced sideways at Percy, frowning a little bit like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Percy's cheeks reddened slightly, and a wave of disgust for himself rolled through him. _You are a Ministry employee, _he admonished himself as he struggled to his feet. _You do _not _sit and cry when there is work to be done. _And there certainly was work to be done here. The Aurors and Healers had arrived, the Death Eaters driven off or captured and the fighters having their injuries cared for, but that didn't mean the Ministry didn't have a lot of things to handle here. They needed to stop this from happening again, how to keep people safe. He couldn't sit and wallow in his fear; his little brothers were here, and they needed protection. And that was _his_ job, it always had been. As ex-Head Boy, as Ministry Department Head, and most importantly as big brother.

Percy puffed out his chest, which was still uncomfortably tight from the healing spell, and looked down at Ron and George. "Go somewhere safe," he ordered them pompously. "I have some business to deal with here." He earned himself an eyeroll from Ron but George just grinned at him.

"Our hero," he chirped, cheerfully but drowsily, as he lied back on the ground, weak from the blood loss. "Off to save the day yet again." Percy blushed slightly, but couldn't help being pleased, remembering their conversation from earlier. Ron shot George a confused look but didn't move, keeping one hand on George's shoulder as his older brother closed his eyes tiredly.

Concentrating most of his effort on walking straight, Percy set a course for the crowd of people congregated around the storefront, under the shadow of the Dark Mark. Percy noticed it consisted of mostly Aurors; everyone else was kept away by their deeply seeded, instinctive fear.

"Where are you…?" Ron's question trailed off

As Percy approached the Apothecary, several Aurors cautiously crept inside, wands at attention. Percy tried to cling to the hope that there would be no one inside, that the Death Eaters had just created a Dark Mark to frighten and terrify, and that no one had been killed. Because fear had been the only goal of the Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley, Percy was sure of it. There had been no specific target in mind—the only people regularly in Diagon Alley that the Death Eaters would want dead enough to risk exposure like this were Ron and George, and the attack hadn't originated at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Percy recalled the odd behavior of the Death Eaters, the apparating and disapparating, the directing most of their curses towards buildings. Now it was obvious to Percy that they were trying to wreck the most havoc with limited attackers; their one and only goal was inspiring fear. Showing that the fact Voldemort himself was dead didn't mean they would just slip away quietly.

They should have seen this coming, really. The kind of hate that inspired the Death Eater movement didn't just die because its leader did—the head of the snake might have been cut off, but the body was still thrashing about.

But what really made Percy sick to his stomach was the presence of Travers. A Death Eater who only hours ago had been in Ministry custody. There must have been an escape from the impromptu holding cells that the Ministry had set up in lieu of the Dark creature infested Azkaban. Just when the people were beginning to trust the competency of the Ministry…Percy thought he was going to be sick, just thinking about the fallout of this attack.

And that was before he even knew the casualties.

As Percy reached the edge of the mob, a person turned around and Percy's jaw dropped when he recognized Audrey. She was wearing the same clothes as when she left their flat that morning, and a single tear tract ran down her cheek. Percy was suddenly seized with the urge to run forward, to grab and hold her and finally feel that _someone_ he loved wasn't in jeopardy. But instead he walked up to her side and they watched together as the Aurors worked to break up the Dark Mark.

"This isn't over, is it?" Audrey asked quietly, eyes glued on the fractured skull and snake seething in the air above them.

"No," Percy replied softly. "It's not."


	11. Crushed

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: Two chapters in one day! _

Chapter 11

Percy was having, as Audrey would call it, a shitty day.

It had started out fine enough in the Ministry interrogation rooms and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but had been pulverized along with the already scarce optimism of the wizarding people. Now he was sitting in a charmed Ministry car, bouncing up and down as their inexperienced driver went uncertainly over the rough terrain toward the breached Ministry holding cells, the constant grating inside his stomach reminding him that he hadn't eaten all day and his lost hearing aide reminding him of painful explosion that had damaged his ears. Audrey had cast a Noise-Amplifying charm to hang near his ears, but it failed sporadically, making it necessary for everyone to shout at him to be heard.

George had been taken to St. Mungo's. It was strictly necessary but Percy had insisted and George was too weak to bother arguing. Percy was sure his Mum and Dad would be there soon—and so would a legion of Aurors. As soon as Percy had returned to the Ministry he'd heard the plans—every potential major target would be locked down and put under 24-hour protection in order to guard from future terrorist attacks. Personally, Percy believed this to be entirely unnecessary. With fifteen captured and their internal organization most likely in shambles, he doubted the Death Eaters would be regrouping any time soon.

Captured—that wasn't entirely correct, now, was it? Recaptured would be a more exact word. Five of them—_five_—had previously been in Ministry custody. A fact which Percy noticed had been kept out of the wireless reports about the attack.

Percy was torn from his dark thoughts when Audrey gently squeezed his hand. He could see the worry in her hazel eyes as she peered at him, and managed a hollow smile which he knew she would see through immediately. She didn't say anything about it, though, just clutched his hand tighter and didn't let go. Percy turned his head away from her and stared out the window, watching the gray-tinged fields fly by as they drove.

Frankly, he was surprised that Audrey hadn't been stopped from coming along on this excursion. But he supposed that she technically was an employee of the Ministry (or at least Shacklebolt had expressed an interest in hiring her) and, truthfully, the fact that no one had asked who she was made it easier to bring her along.

An ashen-faced, tight-lipped Auror was sitting across from them in the magically expanded backseat. Percy reckoned he was about Bill's age, but much shorter than his eldest brother and with short, shaggy brown hair that desperately needed a combing, in Percy's opinion. He had pale, pale blue eyes that almost looked yellow if the light was right. They were slightly unnerving in their own right, but Percy could feel his skin crawl as the eyes repeatedly darted to his face, over and over. Every time Percy tried to catch the Auror looking at him the young man's eyes flew back to the window… only to creep back to his face as soon as Percy averted his own gaze. Annoyance burning under his skin, Percy was about to shout the Auror down when the young man beat him to it.

"How'd you get those scars on your face?" the young man asked rudely, crossing his arms over his chest.

Percy's jaw tightened in anger. "We were just in a _war_, or didn't you notice?" he shot back in his ugliest voice, hating the blush rushing to his face and ears in embarrassment at the man's comment. _Just stop putting up the charms, _Bill had said. _They must be a pain, and besides, girls love scars_, he had added with a mischievous wink. Yes, girls might like the scars _Bill_ had, but not the old burn marks that made Percy's cheek look like fleshy cornflakes. No, his scars were only an unwelcome conservation piece.

Scowling deeply, the Auror jerked his head away and stared back at the window. It occurred to Percy that the young man's rudeness was probably only a way to cover up his own fear and anxiety at the situation, and he felt slightly bad for snapping at him…but not really.

The car screeched to a stop and they all lurched forward. Percy hissed in pain as his aching back was jerked.

"I guess we're here," Audrey commented dryly. Percy watched as the Auror struggled to undo his seat belt—obviously,_ his_ father hadn't used any excuse to drive around in a muggle car. Percy shivered as he followed Audrey out into the cold, drizzly air. The other occupants of the car stepped out as well. The other Ministry employee and his Auror accompaniment grouped together on the wet grass as the driver, seemingly uncertain of what to do now that the car had stopped, awkwardly shut the car door as the engine still hummed. Percy sighed, watching as he joined the several men and women already milling around the fields, dressed in the bizarre assortment of clothing that indicated a magical person attempting to dress as a muggle. They were obviously the Auror guard around the holding cells. If only they had been there that morning, when the Death Eaters had escaped.

"Sorry about the non-magical transportation," said Auror Justinian as the younger Auror hurried up to stand behind him, trying to look imposing. Percy decided to take the opposite route and shifted as far away from the older Auror as possible. Percy couldn't help the bad taste that crept into his mouth every time he looked at Justinian; something about that man rubbed him wrong, ever since his comment about wanting to torture suspected Death Eaters. "But the holding cells are in a muggle saturated area, and we've already had to Confund enough of them who saw more magic than we'd like."

"It's unfortunate, yes, but unavoidable." A tall but stooped wizard stepped out of the front seat of the car, brushing nonexistent dirt from his robes. Percy gritted his teeth—he disliked this man as much as Justinian. Lewis Diocletian was a recent addition to the Minister's Department. All of the employees that close to the Minister who had lasted throughout the war without being jailed or fleeing were now convicted of war crimes—except for Percy, of course. It was an uncomfortable feeling knowing that he was the only carryover from the Minister's Department. "Now," Diocletian continued, raising his voice. "Who is in charge here?" he demanded, as if expecting the person to materialize at his command.

At that moment, a harassed-looking witch appeared literally out of nowhere in front of them. Percy blinked in surprise. The holding cells were invisible?

"You're here!" The pudgy, blonde-haired witch cried out in a breathless voice. "We weren't expecting…well, we'd thought it would take longer for you to verify a Portkey…." She broke off, cheeks flushing bright red.

"We took a car," Diocletian responded, gesturing to their vehicle. It jerked slightly and let out a dark puff of smoke, causing them all (save Audrey) to jump in shock. "It is extremely important that we find out what happened here." Diocletian's voice had a hard, almost frightening edge to it.

The witch squirmed under Diocletian's intense gray gaze, the blush across her face darkening. "You—you have to understand. We've been doing the best we can under the circumstances!"

"I see," Justinian growled out, taking a step forward menacingly. The witch cowered slightly. "And your best involved letting eight confirmed Death Eaters to escape?"

"And attack Diagon Alley, destroy two shops and_ kill _a person?" The younger Auror snapped, glancing sideways at Justinian as he said it, obviously trying to impress his boss. Percy felt a jolt of pain in his stomach, remembering the Apothecary owner who had refused to help the Death Eaters devise a potion to confer immunity to people against Veritaserum (which they had gotten anyway) during the war. The Apothecary owner who in his old age had been an easy target when he came out of hiding. The Apothecary owner who had been kind to Percy and had died for nothing.

Diocletian cast a warning look at the two Aurors, who quieted like scolded children, before turning back to the witch. "Just tell us what happened so that Weasley can conduct his incompetency investigation."

Percy started in shock as Diocletian gestured toward him, automatically standing up straight and readjusting his glasses as his superior glanced back at him.

Audrey nudged his side and whispered into the circumference of the charm that blasted noise into his ears, "You're doing an incompetency investigation?"

"Apparently," Percy muttered back, desperately searching his pockets for some parchment and a quill. He puffed out his chest a little, trying to appear more authoritative. Hell, at least Diocletian knew his name.

The witch paled as the word "incompetency" was spoken. With good reason—if she and her coworkers in charge of maintaining the holding cells were found liable for the Death Eater escape, her career would be over. And that was just to start. The witch's hand flew to her flyaway blonde hair, tugging on it restlessly. "Right, er, right this way…" she trilled in a high-pitched voice. The witch turned around and, head whipping back and forth as if searching for stray muggles, flicked her wand. A door popped up, visible on the inner side but transparent on the outer side. It revealed a dank staircase stretching down underground. The witch stumbled in, their small party following. The young Auror stopped in front of the door, crossing his arms and trying to look imposing.

Percy and Audrey followed Diocletian and Justinian down the stairs, deeper and deeper underground. Their clattering footsteps echoed in the dark passageway, and the sudden coldness made Percy shudder. As they reached the end of the stairs and stepped into a stone corridor dimly lit by floating candles, Percy finally managed to liberate a scrap of parchment from his robes. He quickly forgot about writing on it as his eyes fell on the scene before him.

Holding cells, more like pockets cut out of stone, lined the corridor, running down for nearly as far as Percy could see. At the very end of his vision, Percy could see a point where the corridor turned, curving to the side and deeper into the earth.

Instead of bars, shimmering walls of orange-red magical energy kept the cells secure. Inside each cell was an immobile figure—stunned and dumped unceremoniously on the flat stone floor.

"We've been keeping all the prisoners stunned since the breakout," the witch said quietly. Percy let the talk wash over him, trying to get his thoughts in order. Why couldn't they have told him before hand they he was doing an investigation? He seemed like a bloody idiot, with no prepared questions! Did no one respect him? "It's the best way to keep them under control, but…"

"But repeated and prolonged use of the stunning spell on a person had been proven to cause detrimental effects to the body," Audrey finished coldly. "You're giving them all permanent spell damage." Percy could hear a definite accusatory tone in her voice.

"What, do you feel sorry for them?" growled Justinian, rounding on Audrey. She took a slight step back as he towered over her, but held her ground. "They're Death Eaters!"

"Not all of them," Audrey hissed back immediately, crossing her arms. "Some of them are still awaiting trial, could be _innocent_—" she broke off, shaking her head and clenching her jaw. Percy knew she was holding back a lot more anger than she was letting out. "Why couldn't you separate the ones who had already been proven guilty from the others?"

"They were," the witch put in quickly. "They were put in a different section, deeper underground."

"Forget a different section, why weren't they in a different_ building_?" Audrey demanded with hostility.

Justinian scoffed. "Do you even _work_ for the Ministry? Do you have any idea how difficult it was to find and fortify this one location?" The Auror took another step, almost threatening toward Audrey. Percy was suddenly very, very aware of which pocket he had put his wand in. Every instinct he had screamed at him to grab it. "How many criteria must be met for a Ministry prison for convicted criminals? How much security—"

"That's an excellent question," Percy interrupted, almost wincing at the emotionless tone in his own voice. He stared down his nose coldly at Justinian until the Auror backed away from Audrey. Triumph ran through him as he turned his gaze back to the witch. "How much security was in place at the time of the breakout…this morning, was it?" Percy reached into his pocket and touched his wand with two fingers, performing a familiar non-verbal charm that would record all her answers.

"Some…sometime this morning, yeah," she answered uneasily.

Percy raised an eyebrow coldly. "Am I to understand you don't know the exact time?"

"I wasn't there at the time," the witch responded, a dark blush spreading again over her face. "Only one person was."

Audrey sucked in a sharp gasp of shock. Percy wanted badly to follow suit, but struggled to keep his emotions in check. _One _person? Guarding nearly every prisoner the Ministry of Magic had?

The witch must have seen the disbelief in their faces, because tears began to fill her eyes. "You have to understand! We have so few resources! We've been doing the best we can. There are so few Aurors available, and we thought the cells were secure enough so that we didn't need an extensive wizard guard system—"

"More than one person is not extensive," Justinian spat. "If you had just contacted the Auror office, told them you needed mo—"

"And this person, where might I find him?" Percy interrupted loudly, taking a small amount of joy out of the furious look Justinian shot him.

"St. Mungo's," the witch said. "He had…awful curse damage from the escapees when I found him. He still hasn't regained consciousness, so we still don't know exactly what happened."

"His name?" Percy inquired sharply.

"Crane. Commodus Crane." Her gaze dropped to her feet for a moment, and then looked up, eyes bright with panic. "Is the Minister coming? One of the Aurors they sent said that this was being handled by the top of the Ministry."

"Minister Shacklebolt is doing…other things," Diocletian said. Percy almost could have smile at that—once an Auror, always an Auror. Kingsley had rushed the front lines immediately, dove into the aftermath of the battle to uncover victims and track down attackers as Percy and the other Ministry employees had hurried to their offices to prepare for the blowback. "I'm his Senior Undersecretary." Percy blinked in surprise. He hadn't known that. Of course, he himself didn't even work for the Minister's office any longer. No, he headed an unnamed, one-man Department with the sole responsibility of doing grunge work. And, apparently, incompetency inquiries.

"How many prisoners escaped?" Percy asked, bracing himself for the worst.

"Eight are unaccounted for," the witch said softly.

"They only captured five from the Diagon Alley attack who used to be in custody, Percy," Audrey said, a clipped edge of panic to her voice. Percy nodded. As if he needed reminding. Three escapees, loose on the wizarding world.

"We'll need a list," Justinian growled. "Of everyone who escaped, so we know who to look for."

"And their records, please. From before and after the war." Percy added.

The witch nodded. "Of course, of course. But their files will take a while to get." She began to bustle around, picking through piles of scraps and scrolls of parchment on a nearby desk.

"Were all the ones who escaped convicted Death Eaters?" Percy asked. The witch nodded. "Did you have more than eight such prisoners?" he asked, knowing the answer was most likely yes.

"Many more, and they've all been stunned and locked down in their cells. We kept the known Death Eaters in separate chambers, accessible only by specially authorized Floo. Eight cells per chamber, each with one convict in them."

"So only one chamber of prisoners escaped," Percy muttered to himself.

"They didn't make any attempt to free the other Death Eaters?" Justinian asked, sounding skeptical.

"Th-they might have," the witch answered, stumbling over her words. "I…I don't know, but it takes a special authorization to use the Floo into a secure chamber. They probably weren't able."

"Where was Crane discovered?" Percy inquired.

"Inside the secure chamber," the witch replied, furiously rubbing her eyes. "When I came in and couldn't find him, I checked everywhere. He, he was just…ly-lying there…" she broke off, tears beginning to flow freely down her cheeks.

The Wireless sitting on the desk suddenly crackled loudly, making them all jump. A harsh, klaxon-like noise burst from it before a voice took over.

"_There has been one confirmed fatality from the terrorist attack on Diagon Alley,_" the voice declared. Percy noted the use of the word "terrorist" instead of Death Eater. Trying to separate this as much as possible from the fear the wizarding world was beginning to recover from. As if people were that stupid. "_The Ministry advises everyone to remain calm. Do not panic. There is no reason to expect this is anything other than an isolated incident. All Aurors report immediately to the Ministry for assignment. Again, do not panic. There has been one confirmed fatality from the terrorist attack on Diagon Alley. The Ministry advises everyone to remain calm…_" As the message began to repeat, Diocletian reached over and flipped off the Wireless. His face was an impassive mask.

"It's not going to_ be_ an 'isolated incident' unless you catch those Death Eaters," Audrey said darkly.

Diocletian cleared his throat, pulling height up to his full height and drawing his robes tighter around himself. "Indeed," he mused, rubbing his chin.

"I should report to the Ministry," Justinian said. "A lot of inexperienced Aurors are being brought in; they're going to need as many veterans to coordinate as possible."

Diocletian nodded. "Of course. And Justinian," the Auror, who was just beginning to climb up the stairs, turned around. "I think it would be best if you kept what you learned here strictly confidential."

Justinian inclined his head slightly, eyes glinting. "Understood, sir." He disappeared up the flight of stairs, the echoing of his feet lingering long after he was last seen.

"That would go for all of you as well," Diocletian said slowly, gray eyes sweeping over Percy, Audrey and the witch. A frown passed over Audrey's face even as the witch nodded vigorously, looking relieved.

Percy blinked, confused. _What did he mean by that? _"Sir?"

Diocletian sighed. "I don't think now is the time for the public to lose faith in the Ministry. Surely you agree?"

Percy ran a hand through his hair, still baffled. "I'm afraid I still don't understand, sir."

A scowl passed over Audrey's face, and she let out an angry huff of breath. "He means he wants to cover up this particular bit of Ministry incompetence, Percy."

Percy felt a hot prickle of annoyance at her words. Why was she implying that the Ministry was rife with incompetence? _People only concentrate on its failures, not its successes. It's not fair. _"Well," he growled, trying to keep his temper in check. "I can see how this getting out could…discourage people's trust in the Ministry."

Audrey's face darkened. "You can't be serious!" she gasped, some of her anger giving way to disbelief.

Percy's skin was beginning to get uncomfortably hot. "I just mean that if people blamed the Diagon Alley attack on the Ministry because of the Death Eater escape, then it would make it a lot harder for us to do our jobs protecting people."

"So you want to _lie _to everyone to cover the Ministry's ass?" Audrey demanded, eyes locked on Percy and full of fury and…betrayal?

"That's not what this amounts to," Percy growled, acutely aware that the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister was watching him fight with his girlfriend. He felt the angry heat covering his entire body and seeping in deeper. _What is she thinking? For Merlin's sake! _"You have to understand the ramifications of—"

Audrey whipped around to face Diocletian. "Does Kingsley Shacklebolt know that you're trying to cover this up?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt is an Auror, first and foremost," Diocletian replied smoothly, not looking the slightest bit perturbed. "His response to this whole affair proves that. He doesn't understand the finer points of politics. That's why he appointed me."

"So that makes it okay to lie to everyone about a Ministry fuck-up?" Audrey snarled.

Percy gritted his teeth in anger. _He _was part of the Ministry, didn't she understand that? _How can she be so…so… _"You don't understand the situation, Audrey," he forced out icily.

"People have been hurt, someone _died_!" Audrey ranted. "His family deserves to know the truth, and if that means that the Ministry looks bad, it serves them right for fucking up in the first place!" Audrey returned her furious gaze back to Percy. "Goddammit, Percy, I didn't expect this from _you_! I thought you'd learned something!"

Percy could feel the boiling feeling invading deeper and deeper into his body. _What does she understand about how the Ministry works? How dare she judge me? _Percy stared back into her anger-filled hazel eyes and hot fury gripped him even tighter, until it felt like his skin was burning. It was a tight, suffocating, bizarre feeling, something he had never felt before. He opened his mouth to let the blazing tide of rage spill out—

And then he remembered—there _was _a time in his past when he had felt this broiling fury. A time three years ago when he had come home and watched his chance at finally impressing his father crushed under the words _"Fudge is using you". _

Percy clamped his jaw shut and forced it to stay that way, staring stonily at Audrey and refusing to acknowledge her as she challenged him, practically begged him to lash out in retaliation to her anger-filled raving.

Finally, she spat out the words, "I can't believe how much I misjudged you," at his feet and stormed up the stairs with a string of curses that would put Ginny to shame.

Percy stared dully at the stone wall in silence for several long minutes before starting forward.

"Where are you going?" asked Diocletian, with nothing more than mild curiosity in his voice.

"St. Mungo's," Percy replied hollowly as he climbed up the stone steps toward the cloudy, rainy aboveground.


	12. St Mungo's

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: Well, as the last few chapters have certainly told you, I'm not one for writing totally fluffy stories. Sorry. I always thought the whole "all is well" thing was a little naïve. _

Chapter 12

There were very few things Percy hated about being a wizard more than going to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Maybe it was the lack of dignity in the visitor's entrance, or the horrible memories of fear and uncertainty he associated with the place, or the fact that every time he went and saw the terrible afflictions plaguing the wizards and witches there he was confronted with the fact that the magical community wasn't as impervious as they liked to think.

Percy forced his way down the street, jostled and shoved by scores of shoppers laden with plastic bags and snobbish attitudes. Finally he reached the miserable storefront of Purge and Dowse Ltd., clearing his throat awkwardly as he approached a particularly ugly female dummy that was currently sporting a neon purple and yellow leopard print dress. Doing his best to ignore the curious—and downright_ rude_—stares he was getting from passing muggles, Percy leaned up into the glass window, putting his mouth as close to the dummy as possible and feeling shamefully foolish.

"I…I'm here on Ministry business," Percy whispered. The dummy nodded discreetly and its finger twitched indicating for him to come forward. Glancing up and down the crowded street, Percy straightened his buttoned, muggle-style shirt and stepped through the cool sheet of glass.

The waiting room wasn't in total pandemonium, but it also wasn't in what Percy would call its normal condition, a normality he had established in his own mind after many visits to the

Artifact Accidents Ward investigating the ramifications of improperly-bottomed cauldrons. The Healers bore more worried, tight expressions than on a relaxed day, and there were more people, laid out on the chairs and tables, groaning in pain from still unattended shrapnel wounds and spell damage.

As Percy wove through the rows of patients and ducked out of the way of hurrying Healers, he felt his stomach clench in guilt every time his eyes settled on a pain-twisted. He couldn't help but wonder if he could have spared them their suffering, if he had been just a little faster with one curse, managed to take out a single Death Eater before they were able to hurt the person in front of him…

Finally Percy managed to break through the sea of casualties who, he prayed, would not progress to being fatalities. He reached the desk of the harassed-looking Welcome Witch, who glanced up from the parchment she had been frantically scribbling on.

"Can I help you?" she asked hurriedly.

"Indeed," Percy replied, clearing his throat and doing his best to look official and not perturbed. "I'm here on official Ministry business," he said, the words scrubbing away most of his uneasiness and causing his chest to puff out. "Will you direct me to Commodus Crane, please?"

"Er…" the Welcome Witch quickly ran her finger down a list of names in a thick ledger, searching for the name. "Yes, fourth floor. Ward forty-three."

"Thank you," Percy said, but the witch had already returned her attention to the scraps of parchment before her. As Percy turned away, he considered asking where George Weasley was staying. But knowing George he had probably already abdicated his bed to someone he thought deserved it more and run off to find Ron, who had to be with Harry and Hermione… he wondered how they were responding to this. Most likely they were on the ground with Kingsley, proving their heroism.

Is that where Audrey had gone to, after their fight? Percy felt guilt once again turn his stomach as he pushed through the double doors and past the portraits of famous Healers. With a hot flash of anger, Percy shoved away these feelings. Why was _he _feeling guilty for what _she _had screamed at him? He knew Audrey meant well, but she just didn't understand the complexities of politics, of how hard it was for the Ministry to gain people's trust. And if they didn't have the trust of the public, how could they possibly help them? He was _right _about this, he _knew_ he was right…

_There was a time before when you were sure you were right_, scolded a voice in his head, which Percy had come to think of as his interminably irritating conscience/inner child, depending on the situation. _And what happened then? _

_This is absolutely ridiculous! _Percy thought angrily at the voice, extremely aware of how mental he was becoming. _I have work to do, I don't have to time to fret about—_

_Yes, yes, _said his conscience/inner child voice. _There's always _work _to do, never time for anything else…_

_Just shut up already, _Percy retorted sharply, and the voice complied. It didn't speak up again as Percy arrived at the door to ward forty-three. It bore a label of: DARK CURSE DAMAGE.

Percy stepped forward, awkwardly raising a hand, unsure of whether or not he should knock. Suddenly the door swung open and a Healer rushed out, not even glancing sideways at Percy as he swept down the corridor. Percy slipped inside the Ward, and, looking around, tried unsuccessfully to swallow the lump rising in his throat. He was sure that this ward hadn't been so full of cursed wizards and witches since the height of the war, before the Death Eaters had taken the hospital and cursed rebels were forced to fend for themselves.

"Can you show me to Commodus Crane, please?" Percy asked the first Healer he saw who wasn't attending a patient.

The middle-aged woman nodded at him, pulling back her long dark brown hair behind her head. "Sure, I'm supposed to be doing a check-up with him right now. Follow me." She whipped around in a flurry of lime-green robes and marched off to the corner of the room, which was blocked from the rest of the room by a deep blue curtain.

"Why is he behind a curtain?" Percy asked, feeling uneasy again and he fingered the wand in his front pocket. Every other patient was laid out openly on their beds so various Healers could walk around and check on them freely.

The Healer turned around just as she grasped the edge of the curtain, fixing Percy with a dark gaze. "We thought it would be upsetting for the patients and their families to see him," she said bluntly, pulling back the curtain just enough for her and Percy to slip behind.

Percy couldn't help the gasp of shock that was dragged from his lips, and he stumbled back into the curtain. The Healer grimaced, deepening the folds in her already lined face, but stepped up and laid her hand on the man's cheek comfortingly anyway as he stirred.

Dark, almost black burns marred his chest, faint wasps of smoke rising from the smoldering skin even as the Healer dribbled a light blue potion onto it, murmuring softly as Crane winced and hissed in pain. Percy didn't know of any curses that could cause those painful injuries, and he was sure that they would never be taught in Hogwarts, or even in Durmstrang. How a Death Eater in Ministry custody had managed to inflict that kind of damage, Percy didn't want to know. But it was his job to find out.

_And that's all that matters, isn't it? _the irritating voice in Percy's head whispered, disappearing before he had a chance to reprimand it.

Trying not to show that his hands were shaking, Percy stepped forward and cleared his throat, addressing the Healer. "Is he able to talk to me?"

Capping the potion bottle, the Healer tucked it away in her robes. "Are you family?" she asked, eyes raking skeptically over his bright red hair and deep blue eyes, which were at absolute contrast with Crane's black hair and dark brown eyes which were visible as his eyelids fluttered erratically.

"No," Percy replied, letting his most confident, pompous tone pass over his lips. "I am a Ministry representative here conducting an official inquiry into the events that led to him being in…this condition."

The Healer's eyebrows flew up for a moment and then immediately dropped and furrowed into an expressive frown. "I see…I'll wake him up, but I can't guarantee he'll be at his best."

Percy nodded and reset the recording spell as the Healer gently put her wand to Crane's temple. Crane's eyes widened suddenly and he took in a sharp intake of air. "Take it easy, Mr. Crane," the Healer said softly to him. "Are you in much pain?"

Crane let out a slow breath, managing to push himself up onto his elbows. Percy himself winced as there was a terrible crackling sound accompanied by the acrid smell of burnt flesh. "I've had worse," the Ministry employee choked out from his undoubtedly raw throat, croaking loudly. "Doing paperwork for the Obliviator Headquarters, that's painful…" the Healer smiled indulgently down at him.

"Well, that's… good, I suppose," she said, standing up. "I'll leave you with Mr., uh…" she glanced at Percy.

"Weasley," Percy supplied, stiffening his already straight spine.

"Mr. Weasley, and feel free to call for me if you feel dizzy or if the pain increases." With that, the Healer stood and disappeared to the other side of the curtain.

"Obsurdescite," Percy muttered, slowly sweeping his wand around the perimeter of the curtain. Almost immediately, the chaotic noise from the rest of the ward was dampening and soon slipped away completely. Percy and Crane couldn't hear what was going on in the rest of the ward, and, most importantly, they couldn't hear the classified conversation that was about to take place behind the dark blue curtain in the corner. Because Percy would have to keep this as secret as possible.

"Have you been informed of the situation, Mr. Crane?" Percy asked briskly, conjuring up a simple wooden chair (which was by far the simplest to create) and taking a seat.

"I...I've heard snippets," Crane said slowly, shifting in his bed. "But I'm not sure exactly what I was hearing…"

Percy sighed heavily, deciding it was best to lay out the situation as bluntly as possible for the wizard. "Eight Death Eaters escaped the holding cells when you were attacked. Five of them were recovered in an attack on Diagon Alley."

Crane's jaw dropped in horror. "An attack…?" he sat up hurriedly, wincing in pain as he aggravated his curse damage. "Is that why the ward is so full?" Percy nodded tiredly. "Oh, no… oh, _no_…" Crane murmured, dropping his head into his hands. "This is terrible…"

Percy cleared his throat awkwardly, completely unable to deal with this man's impending emotional breakdown. "If…if you could just explain to me what happened before you were attacked?"

After several minutes of loud sniffling and shaking shoulder that deeply alarmed Percy, Crane nodded, rubbing at his face. "I was making the rounds as normal, feeding the prisoners…and I used the security Floo into one of the chambers….I hadn't even made it out of the fireplace, the fire was still burning…when I saw the faces of the prisoners and felt my chest burn…" He shuddered, eyes distant, as if reliving the memory.

"Can you tell me what happened next, sir?" Percy prodded.

Crane's brow furrowed. "I don't…I don't quite know. One of them grabbed me and pulled me out of the fire onto the floor…they walked over me…into the fire. Just as I passed out, they disappeared."

Percy blinked, trying to put these disjointed scenes of memory together. "So…they managed to get out through the secure Floo because the fire you started was still burning?" Crane nodded weakly. "How did they get out of their individual cells?"

Crane sighed, cringing a bit as he reached up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. "We…we take the wands of the prisoners, of course, but one of them must have managed enough wandless magic to break him and his fellows out."

Percy frowned. "That was never a concern at Azkaban," he said with a harsh edge.

"Because of the Dementors," Crane whispered. "They…sucked the magic out of the people they were in contact with. But all the spells and potions we can use to prevent use of magic isn't enough to stop a really powerful wizard."

Some of the names of the escapees flashed in front of Percy's eyes. Travers. Avery. Nott. Selwyn. Rookwood. Powerful wizards all. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Yet another reason why it was so difficult for the Ministry to except that they could no longer use Dementors, who were under the heavy influence of Dark wizards, to guard prisoners. Percy forced his thoughts into order and slowly began, "What I don—"

Suddenly Crane let out a strange, strangled noise and a noticeably larger puff of smoke was exuded by the dark burn on Crane's chest, and the man arched and cried out in pain. Panicked, Percy quickly jumped away from him and lifted the noise dampening charm. Soon Crane's cries drew several Healers who threw back the curtain and swarmed around the cursed man's bed. Percy was buffeted unceremoniously away from Crane's bedside.

"You're going to have to conduct your interview at another time, Mr. Weasley," said the first Healer he had spoken to through her gritted teeth as she waved her wand Crane's blackened chest, beginning to mutter Healing charms.

"Of—of course," Percy spluttered, and, as the Healers and patients were whipped up into a frenzy, he fled the ward. He ended up leaning against a nearby wall, gasping for breath, and wondering if Rookwood had been the one to curse the poor man like that and if Percy could have spared him the pain if he had had enough of a spine to kill the man months ago on a warm summer night at Hogwarts.

Percy slid down the wall until he was huddled on the corridor floor, taking deep, slow breaths, trying to calm himself. He slipped his glasses down and rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion crashing down on him.

Footsteps suddenly echoed in the corridor, moving toward him. Percy's head shot up, and he shoved his glasses back onto his face just in time to see Lynn stop walking and cross her arms over her chest, staring down at him with her reproachful gaze that inevitably made Percy think of his Mum. Percy ran over the events that had transpired since he had last saw her, trying to think of what he had done to offend her. There was nothing he could remember, except…Percy felt an uncomfortable jolt in his stomach. Audrey had told her about their fight, and Lynn had, of course, sided with her.

"Have you come to tell me what an arse I am?" Percy croaked, trying not to flinch at how pathetic he sounded. "Because I don't need reminding."

Lynn raised one light brown eyebrow at him. "No, I saw you and came to tell you that your brother left an hour ago. And you're in the wrong ward, if you're attempting to come and visit him." Percy sighed heavily. Lynn raised the other eyebrow to an equal height at this, but said nothing for a minute as she walked over and slid down the wall to sit beside him. "Why did you think I came to call you an arse?" she eventually asked.

"You haven't talked to Audrey today, then?" Percy responded hollowly.

Lynn frowned. "No, we haven't spoken for a couple of days. Why?"

Percy heaved another sigh. He hadn't sighed so much since his sixth year at Hogwarts, when Ginny had been acting strangely, Ron and his friends were trying to hunt down the heir of Slytherin, and Fred and George were being entirely unhelpful concerning both situations. Of course, he wasn't yelling so much now as he had been then. "We got into a fight."

"A fight," Lynn echoed, and Percy nodded miserably. "What about?"

Percy considered it for a few seconds before grumbling, "Politics." He felt a stab of irritation as he thought he saw a smile curl the corners of Lynn's lips. "It's not _funny_," he moaned. "I think we broke up." A thrill of fear ran through Percy's body as he said those words, realizing that they could very well be true.

"You didn't break up, Perce," Lynn said condescendingly, shaking her head as if the idea was ridiculous.

"How do you know?" Percy shot back immediately.

"Because, Percy, I know your relationships better than you do, to be truthful," Lynn replied loftily. "I knew you and Penelope had broken up _weeks_ before either of you did. And I know that you and Audrey haven't."

"You didn't hear what she said to me," Percy mumbled in despair. "I think she _hates_ me."

"She doesn't hate you because of your political views, Percy!" Lynn said sharply. She leapt to her feet and grabbed Percy's arm, trying to drag him up with her. "Get up, already. You look so pitiful, curled up on the ground." Percy sighed yet again and allowed Lynn to haul him up. She set off down the corridor and Percy, who really didn't know what else to do, followed. "Okay, so, what did you say to her?"

"Nothing," Percy muttered, staring at his feet as he put one in front if the other.

"Nothing?" Lynn said in disbelief. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened, Percy."

"I didn't say anything _personal _to her!" Percy retorted defensively. "And the political stuff is classified."

Lynn's eyebrows shot up again. "Classified…uh huh…" she shook her head in a quick, jarring motion as if trying to clear it. "Whatever you say, Perce. So if you didn't say anything personal, what _did_ you do?"

"Nothing," Percy repeated strongly, not bothering to cover his irritation. "I shut up. Isn't that what people are always telling me to do?"

"Don't be self-pitying Percy, it's obnoxious," Lynn said breezily, not at all phased. She stopped walking suddenly and swept around to stand in front of him. "My break's over and this is my ward," she said, jerking her head toward the door they were standing in front of. "So are you going to keep up this bollocks or are you going to tell me what happened?"

Percy swallowed. "I…I don't what to keep you from your work…"

Lynn rolled her green eyes. "If you don't what to talk right now, just say so. Don't pretend you're worried about me missing a couple minutes of work."

Percy couldn't help but smile at the way she saw right through him. The smile took on an apologetic tone, though, with his next words. "I'm sorry, Lynn. I…I just need to concentrate on this project I've been given, all right?"

"All right…" Lynn said doubtfully. "But promise me you'll talk to me before you do something stupid, okay?"

Percy's smile grew a little. "I promise," he swore, and Lynn disappeared behind the door into her ward.

* * *

When Percy returned to his and Audrey's flat that night, it was empty. Even though Audrey always left work earlier than Percy, she wasn't home.

Hermes' hoot of greeting might have made Percy smile if it wasn't followed by an angry hiss. He turned around to see Lotus stalking over the kitchen floor, intelligent green eyes flashing with anger, obviously upset to see Percy and not Audrey coming through the door.

"I'm sorry," Percy told the cat testily as he flung his cloak onto the couch with more force than strictly necessary. It flopped onto the floor. "But Audrey isn't coming tonight." The words stung him—this would only have been their second night together in their new flat, and now is wasn't going to happen.

Lotus hissed again, and Percy was positive that if cats could spit he would have done so at Percy's feet. He stalked away, fading into the darkness with a final glint of his green eyes.

Percy removed his wand and summoned several rolls of parchment and an inkwell to the kitchen table as he sat down. He penned a letter to Thomas Sedge, an associate of his who worked in the Magical Transportation Department and specialized in the Floo Network, requesting a meeting.

He had barely signed the letter when Hermes, who had been watching him with increasingly excited yellow eyes, flew to his desk and stuck out his leg, overjoyed to have a letter to deliver. Percy tied it to him and watched as Hermes swooped out the window, hoping none of his muggle neighbors found the owl's activity unusual.

Next, Percy took out his wand and listened to the recording he had made earlier that day in the holding cells, taking careful notes. If was going to investigate this, Percy mused, he was going to do it right. And if his ten N.E. had taught him anything, it was how to take laboriously, painfully detailed notes. That, and to never leave said notes out in the open where they could be charmed to spit ink at him or spontaneously light themselves on fire by mischievous little brothers. So Percy listened to the recording he had made and meticulously wrote out every word everyone said and his own personal thoughts about it. He was about to turn off the recording, deciding that he had heard all the important information, when—

He cringed as Audrey's voice, cold with distaste, filled the room. He fell over himself snapping the recording off, having no desire to listen to their fight again.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Percy carefully tucked his notes away into his briefcase and went to bed alone.


	13. The Morning After

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: As always, thanks for the reviews! You guys are awesome. And for those of you who want more Percy/Audrey scenes and scenes with Weasleys, don't worry! They _are _coming! Percy just has to deal with some more crap first…_

Chapter 13

A deep, growling roar rolled through the air above the Scotland Magical Creature Reserve, over the various pens, pits, huts and houses that were clumped haphazardly over its grounds and causing its employees and exotic animal wards alike to cringe and run, scamper, scuttle and otherwise make for cover.

A huge, sinewy dragon reared up onto its hind legs, becoming visible above the Pixie House in a terrifying mass of dark scales glinting in the morning sun and a forty-five foot stream of bright orange fire that put that sun to shame.

"Can't you keep that monster under control?"

Audrey whipped around, trying to wipe the grin off her face as one of her coworkers, Adam, stumbled out of the South American Giant Flobberworm pen, his gloved hands slathered with a thick, greenish substance.

"Titus isn't a monster!" she shouted back at him, even as the Horntail threw up his wings and beat them once, slowly, causing a single gust of wind to roll over them, nearly lifting them off their feet. Other specialists were beginning to stick their respective houses and pens to see what was going on as their creatures began to get agitated. As if this satisfied Titus, he immediately ceased blowing fire, tucked his wings against his spine and dropped back down into his pit. Before everyone had even returned to their work, methodical rumbling snores could be heard, accompanied by perfect ringed puffs of smoke.

"He's just a free spirit," Audrey continued, now grinning unabashedly, "and he likes attention."

Adam rolled his eyes, scowling. "He's going to be the death of us, Audrey," he said darkly before returning to work. Audrey just grinned wider in response and began to jog along the Reserve's well-worn dirt path, toward the main building. She knew Adam didn't really think that Titus, the faithful Hungarian Horntail who had served her well during the war and was now taking a well-deserved retirement, was really that much of a nuisance—he was just bitter and grumpy because he had drawn the short straw this month and had to de-mucus the Flobberworm pen.

Audrey entered the main building, humming tunelessly as she walked past the many charmed enclosures lining the walls of the building, indoors so that they could have complete control over the climate of each one. The Scotland Magical Creature Reserve was one of the most renown in existence, and injured animals from all over the globe were brought here to be cared for by the best of the best.

It was always bustling with activity, filled with amazing beings and was exactly what Audrey needed right now. To be completely occupied with caring for new arrivals, maintaining the magical habitats, and making sure the dragon egg incubator was at the exact right temperature for the Common Welsh Greens that were about to hatch. _Not_ to think about the fact that she had slept here last night because she was unwilling to go home. _Not_ to think about the fact that Percy, who she had put her complete trust in, was trying to pull the wool over the eyes of every wizard and witch in Britain. The fact that she had said terrible, despicable things to the man she was pretty sure she loved while he had stood there stonily and refused to retaliate.

All she wanted was to throw herself into her new, post-war work of caring for magical creatures and not think about anything having to do with her boyfriend, or politics, or Death Eaters, or—

"Audrey? Audrey, I need to talk to you! It's really important!"

Audrey looked up from the shimmering emerald eggs she had been examining and sought out the source of the voice. Her heart sank as she recognized Marie-Claire Larson, an old associate of hers from the Wizard Underground.

So much for _forgetting _about that kind of stuff, even for a couple of hours.

"What's up, MC?" Audrey responded tiredly, stifling a sigh.

Marie-Claire began tugging at loose strands of her dirty-blond hair, looking about uneasily. She stepped in close to Audrey and whispered, as if she was worried about being overheard. "Did you keep records? You know, of the people we helped along into hiding?"

Audrey blinked, frowning slightly at the idea. "I wrote down a few names on a napkin before I realized what a bad idea it was and burned the thing." Marie-Claire looked a bit relieved at hearing that. "Memory is the only form of recordkeeping we did, you know that. Why do you ask?"

"It's just…" Marie-Claire freed several more strands of hair from her ponytail and began to mercilessly tug all the natural wave out of them, too. "I was talking to Sam—you remember Sam?" Audrey nodded idly. "Well, Sam was just at one of those Ministry offices where people can look up people they knew who went missing during the war, and he said that we should turn over the names and locations of the people we helped." Marie-Claire broke off, light brown eyes studying Audrey's face. "And I think that's a very, _very_ bad idea."

"Why?" Audrey questioned softly, already knowing that the answer would settle another huge, unwanted weight on her mind.

"Do you know Penelope Clearwater?" Marie-Claire asked.

There was something vaguely familiar about the name to Audrey—had Percy mentioned it before? It had a resounding quality to it in her mind, like she had once been someone very important to him. "Not really," she replied slowly.

"Well, she's a muggle-born who was a few years behind me in Ravenclaw at Hogwarts," Marie-Claire explained, her hands finally abandoning her hair and plunging into her pockets. "I tutored her in Potions, and we were sort of friends. After school she worked a job in the Ministry, but she was smart so she got out quickly and went into hiding."

"Uh-huh," Audrey mumbled, not really seeing the connection between this girl and Marie-Claire's cryptic warning.

"But anyway, a week ago she came to me, really scared because someone she didn't know was trying to find her through those offices." Marie-Claire's eyes were wide and full of empathetic fear for her friend. "I told her not to worry, told her that maybe a family member of hers had hired a private investigator to find her during the war and that's who it was, at the office."

Audrey nodded, following so far.

"But it kind of…bothered me. So I started going to different offices all over the country, in disguises, trying to get information about muggle-borns and other people who went into hiding whose names I knew, but who I didn't know personally." The hands were back in her hair again, worrying it intensely even as her eyes never left Audrey's face.

"And?" Audrey prompted, trying to swallow the lump rising in her throat.

"It's so easy," Marie-Claire whispered. "The clerks, they don't even ask you how you know the person, just hand over all the information they've got. If someone wanted to find someone else to _hurt _them…" she shook her head. "And the attack yesterday proves there are Death Eaters out there still. You _can't_ let them give away any information from the Underground to those offices. Sam won't do it without checking with you first. You have to say no."

"Of course I'll say no, MC," Audrey answered immediately, the chill that had been spreading through her body as Marie-Claire talked reaching every limb of her body. "And I'll, um, I'll go around to everyone I put in hiding personally and ask who they would be comfortable knowing what happened to them." If what Marie-Claire was saying was true she would have to in order to keep everyone one safe.

Marie-Claire offered up a small smile at that. "Thank you, Audrey. And I was hoping you'd also…" she trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.

"MC, you know I'll do anything to help," Audrey said sincerely.

"Your boyfriend works in Ministry, right? The redhead who made Simon stop crying that one time?"

Audrey's heart sank yet again. Of course. It figures. Her request _would _have something to do with Percy. "What—what about him?" she forced out.

"Could you bring this up to him, please? Get him to change the policy at those offices?" Marie-Claire requested. "Maybe he could make it so people had to prove their relationship with the person they're inquiring about."

"I…I'm not sure that he has that kind of power, but I'll…I'll bring it to his attention." _Eventually. _"He's kind of busy right now, dealing with the whole Diagon Alley thing."

Marie-Claire nodded sheepishly. "I know, I know. I wouldn't ask you to bother him, but that's just it—everyone at the Ministry's so _busy_. I've been trying to get an appointment with someone for days, but no one has time to listen, and this is _important_."

Audrey sighed. "Of course it is, of course it is…" she leaned heavily against the glass wall of the dragon egg incubator, squeezing the bridge of her nose. "I'll bring it to the attention of someone at the Ministry," she promised, being very careful not to specify Percy so she wouldn't have to break that promise.

Marie-Claire looked immensely relieved. "Thank you so much, Audrey."

"No problem MC," Audrey replied breezily, trying not to let on how burdened she felt by this new thing to worry about, and the request. "See you later, okay?"

"Okay." Marie-Claire smiled and disapparated.

Audrey sighed again, deeply, and turned her attention to the dragon egg incubator, where one of the three emerald treasures nestled in the straw was beginning to shudder and a tiny crack appeared, a small chasm that got wider and wider with each passing second as a new life forced itself from its shell into the world.

* * *

_The unconscious bodies of the Death Eaters lay at their feet on the familiar stone corridor. Percy smirked with satisfaction as he watched Thicknesse turn from a dangerous Death Eater puppet into a harmless, pincushion-like sea urchin. Fred looked at him, a delighted grin on his face._

"_You actually are joking, Perce…" Fred said, admiration and glee glowing in his eyes. "I don't think I've heard you joke since you were—"_

_The air was rent in that second, the world blown apart. "NO!" Percy screamed in agony, reaching for his little brother, knowing what was about to happen, desperate to make it stop, to save his little brother, to die in his place—_

_But he couldn't stop it, and as the dust settled Percy was forced to stare into Fred's blank, hollow eyes…_

Percy bolted upright in his bed, heart pounding, chest heaving and cold sweat beading on his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, taking ragged, deep breaths as he tried to stop desperate tears from running down his cheeks.

The nightmares were back, Percy realized as his body trembled. They had plagued him for weeks after the final battle, making every night a living hell and forcing him to relive the worst moment of his life over and over. But they had stopped more than a week ago, finally allowing him to get some rest without seeing Fred's empty face. Apparently that had been a temporary luxury.

He lay back in bed and took several minutes to calm down, taking slow, deep breathes and stilling his shaking body. Eventually the fear and agony dissipated.

Slowly, he stretched out both arms, searching. His right hand hit his bedside table and gripped his familiar horn-rimmed glasses. His left hand touched nothing but the cold, empty other side of the bed, and the memories of yesterday crashed through his brain like a depressing and entirely unwelcome wave.

Slipping his glasses onto his face, Percy sat up in bed and ran a hand through his bright red hair. This early in the morning, before he enacted his ritual of personal grooming spells, his hair was still curly and unruly. Audrey had said before she liked it better this way, rather than in his usual painfully neat style. _But Audrey isn't here to see it, is she?_ _Because you went back to work rather than going after her. _

Percy groaned and dropped his head into his hands. It was that stupid, nagging, conscience/inner child voice in his head that somehow managed to find and press upon on his carefully hidden fears and insecurities. Not for the first time, Percy wondered with paranoia if George had put some ingenious, Legilimency-informed charm on him that allowed him to examine his thoughts and put in his own commentary. Percy wouldn't have thought that his little brother was capable of that kind of magic, but…

_You also didn't think he and Fred could create curse-blocking cloaks that the Ministry would buy in bulk, but they did, _the voice pointed out._ And he's clever. Just because he likes having childish laughs you always deny his perspicacity._

_Well, that kills that idea, _Percy himself grumbled internally. _George may be a magical genius, but there is no way in hell he knows what 'perspicacity' means. _No, this voice was just the manifestation of his own tortured, self-loathing psyche.

_That's the spirit! _the voice chirped cheerfully.

Hermes swooping into his flat was a welcome distraction from his downward spiral into insanity. The owl landed gracefully on the kitchen table, sticking out his leg and staring at Percy with reproachful yellow eyes that said: 'Get out of bed and take this letter, you lazy prat'.

Percy sighed and unceremoniously tumbled from the bed. He was halfway to the kitchen when suddenly Lotus leapt up next to Hermes, hissing ferociously at the owl. The cat tossed his head and, the way the overly thick, golden fur at his neck swished back and forth, Percy would have sworn he was some sort of mini-lion. Hermes, who took serious offense, snapped viciously back at Lotus.

"Oi! Break it up, now!" Percy ordered. He pulled out his wand and cast a shield charm between the two warring animals. Lotus, after butting his head into the invisible wall experimentally a few times, appeared to admit defeat. He jumped from the table and stalked away. Hermes, still incredibly affronted, feathers puffed up indignantly, thrust his leg out again, obviously wanting nothing more than for Percy to take the letter so he could flee from this malicious cat. Percy obliged, and as soon as he untied the letter Hermes streaked out the window. He sighed.

The letter was from Percy's associate in the Magical Transportation Department, Thomas Sedge, saying that he would be happy to discuss the mechanics of secure Floo Network transportation whenever Percy liked. Sedge was apparently extremely bored and glad for the distraction, seeing as the Department was spending all its time verifying Portkeys for inter-country travel for refugees and monitoring the Floo portals of Death Eater sympathizers. Percy wrote back and said he'd like to meet today, if possible. He left the letter sealed up on the kitchen table with Sedge's name printed on it clearly, hoping Hermes would return and deliver it on his own.

Changing into a simple pair of muggle pants and a long-sleeved muggle shirt, without bothering to fix his hair or shave, Percy grabbed his briefcase and disapparated on the spot.

He appeared a second later in the Atrium, and before he could even get his bearings Percy was buffeted and jostled by passersby, their jabbering piercing his ears. With a feeling of dread in his stomach, Percy recognized a phenomenon that every member of the Ministry feared—the influx of press wizards and witches that inevitably came after an event shocked and frightened the public.

Wands charmed with recording spells were immediately thrust at Percy, rapid-fire questions coming at him.

"Is the Minister planning to release a statement regarding the Diagon Alley attack?" one of them asked.

"Are the allegations that more than half of You-Know-Who's supporters are still at large true?" another whipped off. Before Percy could respond, yet another spoke.

"Are you a Weasley?" he inquired, eyeing the bright red hair. When Percy, flustered, nodded, an excited murmuring spread through the small crowd of press. "Is it true that the attack on Diagon Alley was an assassination attempt on the lives of Ron and George Weasley?"

"Wh-what?" Percy spluttered in disbelief. "That's preposterous! Are you really so daft that—"

"Percy, my boy!" a voice squeaked behind him, and someone grabbed his arm and yanked on it, hard, causing Percy to abruptly break off his speech. He turned around to see a stooped, timid-looking old wizard with a shock of fluffy white hair. Percy recognized Perkins, the man his Dad had shared an office with when he worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Percy had talked to the man a few times when he'd begged his father to take him to the Ministry. The wizard was surprisingly strong for someone his size and age, and dragged Percy from the mob of press while saying unnecessarily loudly, "I need to talk to you! Urgent business and whatnot!"

As Perkins hauled him toward the lifts, Percy could see that the number of press wizards and witches was actually a lot smaller than it had seemed, a tight knot of eight or nine predatory journalists and Wireless reporters roaming about the Atrium, searching for a new victim to bombard with baseless questions. Percy figured this was a good thing—if word had gotten out that Death Eaters who had escaped from Ministry custody had participated in the attack, there would be dozens of press here interrogating every Ministry worker they saw and demanding to see higher-ups.

Perkins didn't relax his iron grip on Percy's arm until the lift doors clanged shut in front of them and the noise of the Atrium disappeared. Percy straightened the shirtsleeve that the stooped wizard had mangled. "And, er, what is it that you need to discuss, Perkins?" he asked.

Perkins look momentarily confused and then rapidly shook his fluffy white head. "Oh, no no, Percy. I have nothing to discuss. I just wanted to get you away from those people. They've been circling the Atrium like vultures, swarming anyone they get alone and trying to get them to say something stupid."

"Well, um, thank you, then," Percy said awkwardly. He was acutely aware that Perkins was studying him with a critical eye.

"Have you been sleeping alright?" the wizard asked. "Your eyes look bloodshot."

Percy sighed, pushing up his glasses up his nose. _Brilliant. _Now Perkins would tell his Dad about this, and his Dad would tell his Mum, who would smother him with her worry and try to get him to move back into the Burrow.

"I'm fine," Percy replied stiffly, in a tone that would make sure Perkins knew very well that the issue would not be discussed further. There was an awkward silence as Percy cast around for something to say. "One of those people said the Minister hadn't released a statement about the attack yet," Percy said slowly, looking questioningly at Perkins.

"He hasn't. I'm, ah, not exactly in the Minister's inner circle," Perkins said with a nervous little laugh. "But I think that he's still out with the Aurors looking for Death Eaters."

Percy couldn't help a slight disapproving frown. He knew that Kingsley used to be an Auror, but he was the _Minister of Magic_ now—he had duties and obligations beyond hunting down Dark wizards, as noble as that calling was. For the very first time, he wondered about the wisdom in appointing Shacklebolt.

The lift doors clanged open on Percy's floor. "Thank you for your help, Perkins," he said before striding out of the lift. Interdepartmental memos of every color were zipping back and forth above his head, and outside the pseudo-windows the weather was gray and dreary.

Percy reached his own office and dropped his briefcase on his desk, sitting down to finalize his investigation into the breakout from the holding cells.

He had just pulled out and inked his favorite quill when the door to his office was thrown open.

"Percy!"

Percy's jaw dropped when he saw who was standing in doorway, arms wrapped protectively over herself, tears forming in her eyes.

"Penelope?" he gasped, automatically rising to his feet as his eyes raked over every inch of her. He remembered the last time he and his first girlfriend had met, just minutes before Percy had departed to Hogwarts to the final battle. Her hair was now carefully washed and falling in neat curls around his shoulders, not matted and dirty. The skin of her face and body was pale and smooth, not filthy and littered with cuts and red welts. But the bright, intelligent blue eyes just barely glazed over with tears hadn't changed. The fear lingering on the edges of her once carefree countenance hadn't changed, even though it should have. "Penelope, what's wrong?"

"What's_ wrong_?" Penelope hissed at him, the harsh anger in her voice making Percy flinch backward. "How can you just stand there and ask me what's _wrong_?" she shook her head fiercely. "The Ministry told muggle-borns that they were safe! Obviously that isn't true!" Tears began to flow down Penelope's unnaturally pale cheeks.

Percy stared blankly at her, waiting for words to come into his mind. Words that could comfort Penelope, words that could assure her that everything would be okay. None came, and he stared stupidly at Penelope as she cried.

"The Death Eaters killed Geoffrey Abbasid, the Apothecary owner," Penelope choked out in a rough, tear-soaked voice. "They want to spread terror, isn't it obvious? What if they decide that to do that they're going to continue You-Know-Who's work and start killing muggle-borns as well?"

"I…I…" Percy stammered. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat. _Pull yourself together, _his mind urged him, and for once Percy couldn't tell whether it was his normal consciousness or the nagging voice. _Answer her. She deserves it. _"I can't guarantee you that's not what they plan to do," he whispered and Penelope let out a strangled sob. Without thinking, he put his arms around her. He hugged her tightly to his chest like he had done when the Mandrake juice de-petrified her and she lay in the hospital wing, confused and frightened. "But the Ministry will protect you," he promised.

Penelope broke their embrace, but kept a hand clutching his arm. Her clear blue eyes stared into his. "It's not just me, Percy. I speak for a lot of muggle-borns. And they're scared. Terrified. They need to know that they're safe, but they just _don't_ anymore." She sucked in a deep breath. "A lot of us don't want to deal with it anymore."

Percy blinked. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"Many muggle-borns just want to leave magic behind completely and go back to their muggle lives," Penelope said. Percy almost gasped—how could any witch or wizard want to give up magic? It was part of them, an integral part of their souls… "I know what you're thinking," Penelope cut in, removing her hand from Percy's arm. "But it's_ their_ choice, Percy. You can't possibly imagine how afraid muggle-borns are, even now. And all of us have perfectly good lives in the muggle world. _Safe _lives." She paused and mopped at her wet cheeks. "But it could only be truly safe if they couldn't be found, no matter what. You have to destroy the Ministry records of all the muggle-borns, and stop the Ministry offices from freely dispensing information about them," she told him sternly.

This was the Penelope Percy knew. Always with a clear-cut agenda, wouldn't bother you unless she had something specific to demand. "Penny…" he said, savoring the familiar nickname on his lips. "Of course, I'll do everything I can to help. If…if any muggle-borns want to leave the magical world, I'll help them. And I can ask the Ministry offices to put restrictions on the information they give out." Penelope nodded, but didn't look entirely satisfied. "But Pen…I can't destroy their Ministry records. It's illegal."

"It's necessary!" Penelope argued angrily, stamping her foot. "Those records have personal information in them, information that could be used to find people—"

"We'll get them classified," Percy cut her off, trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring. "Only Ministry officials will be able to look at them."

"What if there are unknown Death Eater sympathizers working for the Ministry?" Penelope demanded. "Don't pretend like it's such an outlandish idea, it's _possible_," she said as Percy opened his mouth to protest. "This is the only way."

"It's illegal," Percy repeated. Penelope had to understand that. She was never one to break the rules, how could she be pushing him to break the law?

Penelope sighed and wiped at her tearing eyes again. "All right, I understand. I can't ask you to do something like that." She turned around and started to leave his office.

"Wait!" Percy called after her. He couldn't let her just walk out like that—she had to know he was willing to help her. "Pen, I'll do whatever I can that is legal to help you and the other muggle-borns," he pledged.

"I know," Penelope said, so softly Percy almost didn't hear her. She started to leave again.

"Penelope!"

She turned at met his gaze, tucking a curly ringlet of hair behind her ear.

"Are you one of the muggle-borns who wants to leave the magical world forever?" Percy asked, a cold, inexplicable feeling of dread spreading through his stomach at the idea.

Her tear-streaked face fell, blue eyes softening and drifting away from Percy's to the floor. "I don't know," she whispered. "Maybe."

Utter hopelessness filled Percy as he watched Penelope leave his office, wondering if he'd ever see her again.


	14. Suspicions

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: As always, thanks for the reviews!  
_

Chapter 14

Percy would have sworn that the weather outside the pseudo-windows was getter darker and more miserable with every passing second as he walked briskly down a corridor in the Magical Transportation Department. Every torch he passed flickered ominously as if acknowledging his presence, and the underground depth they were at coupled with what must be faulty heating made Percy shiver.

The trip to Thomas Sedge's office was a welcome break from what he had dedicated his morning to after Penelope had left. Horrified at the idea of Penny and muggle-borns like her leaving the magical world, he'd written what felt like dozens of letters, one to every Ministry office telling them to immediately start require proof of relationship before passing out any information. He wasn't looking forward to the letters that would inevitably flood his office in response—clerks wanting to know what exactly constituted 'proof of relationship', and angry people demanding to know why they were being denied information about their loved ones.

_One problem at a time, _Percy told himself sternly. He'd done all he could for the muggle-borns at the moment—now it was time to conclude and turn in his report on the breakout, and to do that he needed to talk to Sedge.

At the end of the corridor, Percy reached a doorway over which a peeling sticker reading FLOO NETWORK was hanging. He couldn't hear any noise coming from the other side of the door except for a soft, continuous whirring noise. With some trepidation, Percy pushed the door open and stepped inside.

At first, the office appeared to be completely empty. But after blinking and refocusing his attention, Percy realized it was actually quite full. In every cubicle—and there were quite of few of them—an employee sat, watching a small screen in front of them with varying levels of attention that ranged from completely rapt to totally bored. Percy approached the nearest cubicle, peering with fascination at one of the screens. It had a many bright silver lines snaking over a black background, each beginning and ending in a pulsating dot which was colored green, purple or red. It took Percy a few seconds to realize that he was looking at some sort of visual representation of the Floo Network. As he glanced around at the other cubicles, he saw that each employee was monitoring a different section of the Floo Network. Every time a person used a certain fireplace, one of the colored dots lit up and dinged as the path the person was taking burned bright white.

"Excuse me," Percy said loudly, causing all the less devoted employees to stare at him while others kept their gazes firmly locked on their screens. "I'm here on urgent business; can someone direct me to Thomas Sedge?"

"Oh, Weasley!" A blond head popped up from a cubicle in the back, soon to be joined by a hand beckoning him forward. "Come back here and we can talk."

"All right, then," Percy replied and navigated his way around the haphazard maze of cubicles. After being turned around repeatedly in the loops and twists the rows of cubicles formed, Percy was ready to have whoever had designed this layout jinxed. It took him nearly three minutes and some extremely curt advice from annoyed cubicle occupants to reach Sedge.

"Took you long enough," Sedge laughed good-naturedly, ushering Percy into his cubicle. "Come on, come on."

Percy edged uncomfortably into the cubicle, which was far too small for two people to be in it. Sedge didn't even seem to notice how cramped they were, just happily hopped onto his desk and offered Percy with chair. "Uh…thank you for agreeing to talk to me," Percy said awkwardly. "I appreciate that you must be busy."

"What?" Sedge grinned. "Nah, it's boring here. We spend all day monitoring our section of the Floo, looking for unlawful travel." He pointed at the screen behind him. "See? Each dot represents a connected fireplace. Purple for public terminals, green for normal residential fires, and red for restricted ones. Those are the ones we need to watch—you know, fires in old Death Eater hangouts, abandoned houses of convicted criminals, places they like. The Aurors leave it to us to watch them, so if we see any activity we call them to catch whoever is using those fires." Percy nodded. "But it's boring," Sedge continued. "There's never any activity on the red ones."

"Well, either way, I appreciate your time," Percy responded. He pulled out some parchment and a quill. "Do you mind if I take notes?"

Sedge's eyes widened comically. "Is this really that important?"

"No, not really," Percy said hurriedly. The breakout still had to remain secret—he couldn't hint on it to anyone, even a peon like Sedge. "I just wanted to know a little bit about the secure Floo."

Sedge's eyes lit up. "Oh, of course," he said cheerfully. "That's my specialty." He waved his wand over the black screen on this desk and the path and dots changed. The silvers lines became bright blue, as were all the dots. "This is the secure Floo Network. It's all in extended branches of the Ministry and in Hogwarts. Secure Floos are used in areas that need high security, but also need to be passed through by authorized officials."

"Yes, yes, I know that," Percy cut him off. "Because a secure Floo can only be used by the people it was verified with when it was connected with the network."

Sedge cocked his head, looking confused. "You seem to get the idea," he said. "Why do you need to talk to me?"

Percy took a deep breath. "I was wondering if it was possible for an unauthorized person to travel through a secure Floo if they climbed into it when the fire an authorized person started was still burning?"

Sedge blinked in shock, as if the idea had never occurred to him. "Well…blimey, I guess so. But to do it without the authorized person helping you, you'd have to be really, really fast about gettin' in there."

Percy nodded, brow furrowing in thought. "I suppose so," he replied slowly. "And I think I'm right in saying it would be very difficult to cram eight people in one fireplace?" Of course, Death Eaters escaping captivity had to be desperate…

Sedge looked utterly bemused. "Yeah, I'd say so." He shook his head a little bit. "What…what was this about again?"

"Nothing important," Percy said briskly. He decided he'd heard enough. He stood up, dusting nonexistent dirt from his pants. "I'd appreciate if you kept this conversation between us," he told Sedge, in his best stern politician voice. The one that told people they wouldn't do well arguing with him.

"Yeah…no problem." Sedge said, blinking in befuddlement. Percy nodded crisply and exited the cubicle, steeling himself for the arduous task of finding his way out of the Floo Network office and back to his own. "Hold on a second!"

Percy turned to see Sedge leaning dangerously far back in his chair, hanging out of his cubicle. "Do you…do you want me to get you the records of secure Floo use?" he asked, almost hopefully, as if he desperately wanted something to do.

"You keep records?" Percy questioned, surprised.

"Well, yes, but we only save them for about a couple of months," Sedge replied happily. "It'll take me a while to recover them," he continued, eyes lighting up with glee at the idea. "But I'll owl you as soon as I do."

"That would be brilliant," Percy said, and then swept out through the maze of cubicles as Sedge called after him, "Cheers, mate!"

Percy decided to cross through the Atrium on the way back to his office, to check the press levels and gauge what had been uncovered about the Diagon Alley attack. As the lift doors clanged open, he was relieved to see that only one wizard, sitting on the uneven, chipped floor where the Magic is Might statue had been taken down and furiously scribbling in a notebook, remained. As Percy watched, the wizard flipped the notebook shut and hurried into a nearby Floo, green flames erupting around him as he disappeared.

Percy's relief evaporated immediately and was replaced by pure shock and cold feeling in his stomach. He froze in his tracks.

Audrey was walking through the Atrium, walking toward him.

For a second, Percy was convinced she was coming right at him, coming to talk to him, coming to apologize. But then he realized how wrong he was; Audrey's eyes were glued on the piece of parchment she was holding in front of her as she walked.

Audrey suddenly looked up from her parchment, and her hazel eyes locked on Percy. Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened in shock…and then darkened. A cold stony expression settled over her face. It was a countenance Percy knew all too well—he had seen it on his father the last few years every time they passed each other in the Ministry corridors.

"I…I didn't come to talk to you," Audrey said, faltering after the first word and having to start again. Her were eyes dark and furious and terrifying. But she stopped walking and stood in front of him.

"Then why did you?" Percy asked, and immediately cursed his own tone. His voice was painfully cold, he would say emotionless if it wasn't for the hard edge of anger. He sounded like a complete bastard, but knowing that didn't quench the angry flame burning in his heart.

Audrey's face darkened further, and fury flashed over her features. "_I'm _here to actually do some good," she snapped at him. "Something _you _wouldn't understand, I suppose."

Percy felt an inexplicable stab of pain through his chest at those words. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but Audrey cut him off.

"I'm petitioning the Ministry offices to restrict the information they give out," Audrey continued, eyes glistening darkly with spite. "Which I'm guessing you don't want done, because it shows that the Ministry didn't do something absolutely perfectly."

With that, Audrey pushed roughly past him and entered one of the lifts, refusing to look at him as the doors shut. Percy stared in confusion after her, a hand slowly moving up to rub his shoulder. He had done exactly what she'd been talking about—in fact, he ordered it to be done, even though it would be overstating his position to claim he had authority to do so.

Fury flared in Percy's heart—Audrey was just showing yet again he had no idea what she was talking about. Percy was about to go after her, to throw this fact in her face, when someone called out to him.

"Weasley!"

Percy recognized Diocletian's crisp, loud voice and forced himself to tear his eyes away from the lift doors Audrey had vanished behind. "Y-yes, sir?" he stammered, automatically straightening his collar and brushing off his pants.

Diocletian opened his mouth to talk but then, eyeing Percy's clothes as he fussed with them, broke off. A strange look that Percy couldn't categorize passed over the man's face. "Do you…have trouble procuring wizard's robes, Mr. Weasley? Perhaps I can give you the name of a good shop?"

Percy felt an uncomfortable chill run over his skin at what that question insinuated. "I find muggle clothes to be extremely practical, sir," he said, after several seconds of struggling to find his voice. He was still speaking abnormally quiet. "I wear them when I don't have any official functions to attend to." Percy was finding it difficult to look Diocletian in his piercing eyes, but did so anyway, trying not to flinch.

Nearly a minute passed in excruciatingly painful silence. Finally Diocletian gave a little nod and continued as if nothing had happened. "Did you finish your report, Weasley?"

"Yes sir," Percy replied quickly. "Shall I owl it to you, or—"

"I'll send someone to get it from your office," Diocletian interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "I was interested in your suggestions in how to rectify the situation."

Percy blinked in shock—it was truly rare that a superior of his actually _asked_ his opinion. He stood up a little straighter and tried to shove Diocletian's last comment out of his mind. "Well, I would suggest getting a squad of Aurors to monitor the cells full time, of course. And to have a full staff of Magical Maintenance to keep the area secure. And," Percy hesitated. Diocletian raised his eyebrows expectantly. "And to put Healers on staff, as well. To counteract spell damage caused by the stunning spells."

Diocletian tilted his chin upward, as if thinking. "I'll take it under consideration. And your estimation on the competency of the Magical Law Enforcement workers in the holding cells? Are they personally to blame for the incident?"

"Well…" Percy had been mulling this over all morning. He could easily end several people's carry by saying that they were indeed liable, which seemed to be what Diocletian wanted to hear. "I don't believe so. I dug around a little, and I found that they put in several requests to the Auror Office for more security. I guess they never reached the people responsible for delegating manpower."

A flicker of something flashed over Diocletian's face. Percy swallowed uneasily. "I think we need to negotiate the use of Nurmengard and transfer the prisoners there as soon as possible." He look at the Senior Undersecretary expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"I'll send for the report," Diocletian replied shortly, and then swept out of the Atrium in a flurry of expensive dark red and black robes.

Percy tugged on the collar of his muggle shirt nervously. With one last look to where Audrey had disappeared, he returned to his office.


	15. Angry

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: Flashback time!_

Chapter 15

Considering the fact that he had just hours ago worried that he would never see her again, Percy should have been relieved and happy to see Penelope throwing open the door to his office and not snapping her wand and disappearing in the streets of muggle London. But the look of fear in her glistening eyes sent a cold, muted fury rise in his stomach.

"Someone was at my flat!" she wailed, standing in the doorway. "I went home and I found that someone was trying to break through my protective wards."

Horror crept through Percy's body. Automatically, he moved toward her and tried to hug her, but Penelope pushed him away. The brief flash of defiance that ran through her eyes made Percy think of Audrey. He felt guilt turn his stomach over for some reason, but he pushed it away.

"I'm staying with a friend," Penelope continued tearfully, stepping away to keep Percy at arm's length. "But how many other muggle-borns are being harassed and _don't _have anywhere to go? This just proves that the Ministry isn't doing enough!"

Percy's mouth went dry and his throat seized up. "I've written the Ministry offices," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm and even. "And the Ministry is providing secure housing for anyone who requires it. You cannot blame this on the Ministry—"

Percy broke off as Penelope let out an exasperated sigh. "You just don't understand, Percy!" she ground out through gritted teeth, sounding incredibly frustrated.

"Then help me to!" Percy snapped. And immediately hated himself for getting cross with Penny, who was just frightened and upset.

Penelope wiped away the tears still slipping down her cheeks as spoke. "Percival Ignatius Weasley," Penelope said slowly. "In all the time I've known you, I've only ever seen you get angry once." Percy blinked in surprise, finding this very hard to believe. "I mean, of course I've seen you get irritated, or go apoplectic over something your brothers did. But it's not the same. This was the only time I've ever seen you _truly _infuriated. It was in your seventh year, my sixth," she continued, voice slightly muffled by her hands clasped over her mouth. "We were patrolling the dungeons as part of our prefect duties."

Percy suddenly realized what occasion she was talking about. It had been a bit of a hazy, red blur that he tried not to think about, but if he concentrated the details sharpened in his mind.

"Do you remember?" Penelope demanded.

He certainly did.

_-flashback-_

_Times were tense at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to superbly understate the matter. _

_A mass-murdering lunatic out for blood named Sirius Black was on the loose somewhere in the castle, and heartless Dementors patrolling the grounds. Just thinking about it made Percy's skin crawl, but he had to be strong and brave to reassure the other students. He was Head Boy, after all. That came with serious responsibilities, all the more serious in their current situation. As he and Penelope walked down an unadorned dungeon corridor on their usual rounds, their footsteps echoed ominously on the hard stone floor. Penelope shivered, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. _

_Percy supposed if there was one good thing about all the terrible happenings at Hogwarts, it was that he now had a perfect excuse to keep an arm wrapped around Penelope's waist as they did their rounds together every night. _

_But he worried about her, sometimes. He knew that, even though she told everyone who asked that she was "_perfectly fine, thank you very much_", Penelope had never really gotten over the traumatic experience of being Petrified by the basilisk last year. She still felt a small thrill of fear every time she was alone in the castle at night, still carried around a large mirror in her pocket, just in case. Still had nightmares about a pair of giant, yellow eyes. _

_So Percy stayed by her side as much as possible, even as the time he had available dwindled as it became necessary devote more and more time to studying for his N.E.W.T.s._

"_How long do you reckon it will be until Professor Dumbledore discontinues prefect rounds?"Penelope asked anxiously, toying with the end of her Ravenclaw scarf. _

_That was a question that had been bothering Percy since the Fat Lady's Portrait had been slashed, proving that Black had breached the castle. He hoped that Dumbledore didn't discontinue their work—the Head Boy should be out protecting the students, not hiding inside his common room. _

"_I hope he doesn't," Percy replied, trying to sound as confident as possible to reassure Penelope. "It wouldn't be wise for the Headmaster to deny the students the protection of their school prefects." _

_Penelope, however still appeared nervous. "I don't know, Percy. Do you really think that we'd be able stop Sirius Black if we saw him? I mean, you told me he killed thirteen people with a _single curse_!" _

"_Twelve of whom were muggles, and weren't on the alert," Percy informed her. "We're prepared, Penelope." He pompously patted his breast pocket, where his wand was resting in wait. _

"_I know, I know," Penelope said, but still chewed her lip worriedly. They were almost at the Potions classroom before she spoke again. "But Black was one of You-Know-Who's followers, right? I mean…you're what those kind of people call a blood traitor, and I'm a muggle-born. What if...?" _

"_I would be afraid too, if I were you." _

_As Penelope jumped back in fear, Percy whipped his wand out and immediately lighted the tip, thrusting it into the shadows from which the rude voice had emanated. The ugly visage of Marcus Flint, Slytherin Quidditch team captain and arch rival of Percy's roommate, Oliver Wood, was illuminated. _

"_You aren't allowed to be out of bed, Flint," Percy said reproachfully, drawing himself up to his full height, and trying not to feel intimidated by Flint's troll-like size or recoil from his putrid smell. "You are not a prefect like myself. You are not allowed to be out this time of night." _

_Flint grinned, revealing a set of truly ghastly yellow teeth. "I'm not the one who has to be worried here, Weasel." He pushed Percy's wand away with a lazy flick of his hand. _

_Percy gritted his teeth and repositioned his wand. "What do you mean by that, Flint?" _

"_I _mean_," Flint sneered, stepping forward. Percy retreated an equal step, but kept his wand hand steady. "Everyone knows that Black's going to kill Potter." Percy's jaw clenched. "But while he's in the castle, why wouldn't he take advantage of the opportunity?" _

"_Opportunity?" Percy growled, although he pretty much understood the threat the Slytherin was giving. _

"_To finish what was started last year," Flint's grin grew even wider and his yellowish eyes turned to focus on Penelope. She paled and shoved her trembling hands into her pockets, averting her gaze. Anger flooded through Percy's body when he saw the slimy git frightening his girlfriend. He moved in front of her. _

"_I'll report you to Dumbledore for saying that," Percy responded heatedly. "It would be a shame for you to have gone through the trouble of repeating seventh year just to be expelled."_

"_What's Dumbledore gonna do?" Flint growled back. "He let a mass-murderer into Hogwarts! How long until the Ministry sacks him?" _

_Percy would have argued with Flint on that point, but he actually agreed. Maybe if Dumbledore hadn't refused the Ministry's help a lunatic hell-bent on killing his little brother's best mate wouldn't be loose in the castle. "I'll give you detention," Percy threatened, switching tactics. "You'll be cleaning up after the Flobberworms from now until you graduate—which, for you, could be years." Percy smirked triumphantly as Flint's grin slipped. "Now I would suggest you go back to bed, Mr. Flint. This is my final warning. Come on, Penelope," he said pompously, turning his back on Flint._

"_I wouldn't be so full of myself if my dad played with muggle toys for a living," Flint snarled. _

_Percy froze mid-step, shoulders stiffening. Anger burned in his chest—he was so tired of his father's career being thrown in his face like this! Why couldn't people appreciate that he was his own person? "What did you say, Flint?" _

"_Just let it go, Percy," Penelope begged, grabbing the back of his robes. "You can't be fighting, it sets a bad example. Let's just go back to our common rooms, okay?" _

_Percy considered it for a few seconds, gnashing his teeth and glaring at Flint as he waited for his anger to die down. "Fine," he finally said, and turned back around. _

"_That's right," Flint whispered in an ugly voice behind him. "Listen to the mudblood bitch." _

_Pure fury exploded in Percy's brain, destroying all rational thought and he suddenly saw nothing but bright red. He whipped around, and in less than a second his wand was out and digging into Flint's throat. The great brute barely had time to look terrified before Percy shouted, "_Muta limacem!"

_Slime began to ooze out of Flint's pores and coat his skin and the Slytherin clawed at his own face, terrified. His body began shrinking, his back hardening and curving outward. _

"_How _dare _you?" Percy growled slowly, his voice cold with fury as he meticulously pronounced each syllable. He stepped toward Flint's dwindling frame as antennae began to sprout from his forehead. "How dare you call her something like that? She has ten times the magical ability that you will ever hope to have to in your pathetic, miserable life, you disgusting _troll."

_Percy glared daggers directly into Flint's horrified face until it was twisted beyond recognition, his body shrunk until it was only a ten centimeters along. Where the gigantic, bigoted Slytherin had once stood there was only a tiny, greenish-yellow snail. Percy watched the snail make its way agonizingly slowly down the corridor away from him, his anger fading. Finally, he reached down and plucked the snail from the ground by its shell. He tossed it unceremoniously into a nearby potion ingredients store room. _

"_Well then," Percy said, turning around and facing a completely dumb-struck Penelope. "I think we're done here. Why don't we head back?" He made sure he tone conveyed they'd never speak of this again._

"_S-sure," Penelope stammered out after a stunned silence. _

"_Brilliant." Percy calmly closed the door to the potions store room. And as they walked, Percy couldn't help but notice that Penelope seemed to feel a lot safer on their way back through the dungeons. _

_-end flashback-_

"Yes, Penny," Percy replied quietly, shuffling his feet a little bit. "I remember."

Penelope had stopped crying. "I need you to get angry again, Percy. I need you to get angry and bend the rules, like you did when you cursed Flint."

_Is she still on that? _Percy thought desperately. "Penelope, we've been over this," he said slowly to her. "I've already written the offices and asked them to do what you said. As soon as Minister Shacklebolt gets back, I'll talk to him personally about the plight of the muggle-borns. Now if you will give it time—"

Far from comforting her, this just seemed to make Penelope more upset. "You can't just brush me off like that, Percy!"

Percy's eyes widened. "I'm not brushing you off, Penelope!" He felt a twinge of annoyance as she snorted in response. "I promise I'll do everything I can, but I just cannot make everything change overnight!"

Penelope shook her head, curly hair flying everywhere. "I can't do this anymore," she said. "I'm going to find someone else to help me." She turned on her heel and stormed out of his office.

Percy hurried out after her, but several steps past the threshold of his door he ran into—literally—someone else.

"Mr. Weasley?" the young man he had collided with, who had short, clipped brown hair and wore a striped tie over his robes, inquired.

"Yes," Percy responded distractedly, glancing up and down the corridor and looking for a flash of long, dark curly hair. Nothing. She was gone.

"Mr. Diocletian asked me to deliver this to you," the young man said, thrusting a scroll of parchment into Percy's hands. "It is his response to your report." The young man stepped back but didn't leave the area, crossing his arms and watching Percy as though he was interested in the contents of the scroll.

The scroll in Percy's hands bore a special seal, one that classified it as top secret. Important enough to be carried by courier, not by charmed to fly by itself. It occurred to Percy that he had once dreamed of being an official high enough up the ladder to receive one of these, but right now, with all the shit that was going on, he couldn't bring himself to perform any sort of ceremony as he tore the scroll open. A small card fluttered out of it to the ground, but Percy ignored that for the time being.

_Mr. Weasley—_

_I have reviewed your report and am satisfied with your investigation. I am considering terminating the employees who were at the holding cells the day of the breakout, Commodus Crane and Kelly Cramer. I will be authorizing the use of a legion of Aurors and Magical Maintenance, but not Healers. The prisoners will be maintained under stunning spells until the transfer to Nurmengard can be arranged. _

_I apologize for the short letter, but I have urgent business to which I must attend. _

_Lewis D. Diocletian_

_(Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic) _

Percy stared blankly at the words artfully penned onto the parchment for nearly a minute, his jaw slack and disbelief coursing through his veins. Diocletian had completely disregarded everything he'd suggested! He was going to sack the employees, even though it wasn't their fault; was going to keep potentially innocent prisoners under jinxes that could cause them permanent damage and deny them Healers to care for them!

"Did you hear the rumors going around?" the young courier suddenly asked. Percy forced himself from his numb shock to respond.

"Wh-what?" he stuttered, feeling incredibly foolish.

The courier looked around conspiratorially before lowering his voice and continuing, as if what he was saying was a big secret. "Some people have been saying that a Death Eater who was announced as being convicted and sentenced by the Ministry was found dead under some wreckage at Diagon Alley." Percy's stomach dropped into his shoes. "It's probably a load of rubbish, but the _Prophet _reporters are going mental, claiming that the Ministry covered up a mass breakout of Death Eaters." The courier rolled his eyes.

"Has Minister Shacklebolt released a statement?" Percy demanded. "Or Diocletian?"

"No," the courier replied, seeming surprised at Percy's seriousness. "Shacklebolt's still out with the Aurors and Diocletian left the office an hour ago without telling anyone where he was going. They've both been owled, but they haven't responded." He glanced over his shoulder, toward the lifts. "It's an absolute mob scene in the Atrium," he said gleefully.

Percy stood in the corridor with the courier bouncing on his heels next to him, and a hot wave of emotion rose in his chest. So Diocletian orchestrated a cover-up but couldn't be bothered to be around when it was uncovered?

He suddenly caught sight of card that had fallen from Diocletian's scroll. He leaned down and picked it up. It was a business card. _Twilfitt and Tatting's: Fine Wizard's Robes and Tailoring. _

Percy shoved the scroll into his pocket and immediately headed for the Atrium. Because in that moment, Percy realized that Penelope was right. It was time to get angry and disobey the rules.

And Percy was very, very angry.

"Get all the reporters into the press room," he ordered loudly, not entirely sure who he was talking to but confident someone would take the order anyway. The press room was ill-used, circular chamber off the Atrium where reporters were addressed by Ministry officials. It had barely been used in all Percy's life—neither Fudge nor Scrimgeour was fond of the public forum, preferring short soundbytes and written statements released directly to newspapers, and Thicknesse spoke in front of the Magic is Might statue, winged by men dressed in black.

"Why?" the young courier asked curiously.

"Why else?" Percy shot back pompously, straightening his collar and beginning to head down to the Atrium. "_Someone_ needs to release a statement. Who knows what those idiots will come up with if no one tells them what's going on?"

The courier gawked at him stupidly for a few infuriating seconds. "Wait…it's not_ true_, is it?" Percy didn't reply. The young man's eyes widened comically. "What are you going to say?"

Percy fixed him with a deathly glare through his horn-rimmed glasses, all the consequences of the actions he was planning running through his head. He shoved the thoughts down. "The truth," he replied shortly, making his decision.


	16. Finest Hour

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: This chapter and chapter 17 were originally one chapter, but I decided to extend the scene where Percy addresses the reporters, so "The One Where Percy Gets Drunk…Again" is now chapter 17 (which is much longer than this one and will probably be out sometime this weekend). _

Chapter 16

The first camera flash to illuminate the press room made Percy flinch, and he gripped the edges of the podium so tightly his nails dug into the wood and the owl carved into it squawked in protest. Through the haze of his anger, Percy found it was easy to ignore it, and to ignore the excited muttering from the press witches and wizards who recognized his Weasley red hair and decided that this story was a lot more interesting than they had previously thought. He stared out over the sea of bobbing, flashing cameras and realized why no other Ministry officials had come out to address the mob—it was like a legion of dozens of voracious Rita Skeeter disciples armed to the teeth with vicious questions and allegations, just waiting to permanently cripple a promising career.

But the anger still burned in Percy's chest, and right now he couldn't bring himself to care about anything else besides getting Diocletian to shove it. Only he couldn't turn him into a snail, so this would have to do.

Tightening his grip until his fingers burned brilliant white, Percy started to speak. "I would like—" Much to his irritation, his voice could barely be heard above the shouts of the press. He clenched his jaw, extracted his nails from the musty wood of the podium and withdrew his wand from his pocket. He tapped his throat lightly and whispered, "_Sonorus_". Then he slammed his wand down onto the podium with all his might.

A deafening boom accompanied with a resounding shock wave flew from the tip of his wand through the room, reverberating off the stone walls. Everyone fell absolutely silent.

"Thank you," Percy said coolly, his magnified voice ringing throughout the press room. The cameras began to flash at three times the frequency and wands with recording spells were thrust before him. Percy kept his eyes well above their heads as he swept his gaze around the room. "I would like to begin by saying that Minister Shacklebolt and Senior Undersecretary Diocletian, both of whom could not be reached for comment, have not evaluated nor approved what I am about to say."

A loud buzz of interest swelled in the crowd of reporters, but they were silenced when Percy began to speak. "I have heard the rumors circulating throughout the wizarding people of late, and I am here to say they are true." There were gasps of shock and surprised mutterings from the crowd. Percy raised his chin, straightened his glasses and ignored them. "Late yesterday morning, there was a breakout at the Ministry holding cells and eight known Death Eaters escaped." More shouts of horror and outrage. Percy clenched his fists but otherwise remained entirely outwardly calm. "Five were captured during the immediate response to the Diagon Alley attack, and one was discovered under the rubble. Two remain unaccounted for."

Percy leaned backwards, letting out a breath and waiting for all hell to break loose. He was not disappointed. After seconds of silence which were both blissful and horrifying, the questions were thrown at him.

"How long has the Ministry known about this?" one of them, a _Daily Prophet _reporter, asked.

"Senior Undersecretary Diocletian, Auror Justinian and I responded to a call from the Ministry holding cells shortly after Diagon Alley was attacked. We learned of the information then."

"Were Ministry officials attempted to cover up this breakout so the people wouldn't learn of their incompetency?"

There was silence after this question was asked, and Percy knew it was the one that every wizard and witch here or listening on their Wireless at home wanted the answer to. He slowly turned his head to focus on the frumpy witch who had spoken.

"At the time, the order was given to keep knowledge of the breakout confidential," he replied coolly.

This comment drew surprised gasps and stunned silence from some of the press, but most of them continued shouting at him.

Percy was suddenly seized with a huge urge to walk out of the room right then. He had done his duty, told the truth, and the burning anger that had driven him into this room was fading. He could just leave now and let Diocletian and the rest of them deal with the fallout. He was so close to leaving that he tucked his wand back into his pocket when he discerned one question from the mass of noise.

"How do you expect the people to trust the Ministry after learning this?" came the enraged shout, followed by a communal jeering of agreement.

Percy felt his stomach drop down into his shoes as he realized exactly what he had done, rushing in here and childishly taking out his own anger at Diocletian. He may well have single-handedly ruined the Ministry's chance of gaining the trust of Britain's witches and wizards and helping them. Cold horror gripped his lungs. How could he have been so _stupid_, so _reckless_, so _impulsive_ in just bursting in here and destroying the fragile relationship between the Ministry and the people? Percy cursed himself. Why couldn't he have thought through this _rationally_?

_But you didn't, _the voice crooned in his head. _And now you have to fix what you've done. You have to improvise. _

"I know that all of you are angry," he blurted out, and every eye, camera and wand in the room was immediately trained on his face. Waiting. "Angry at the Ministry, for letting this happen and not being upfront about it. And I know that that anger covers a deeper fear, as anger often does." Percy desperately cast about in his brain for the right words to string together. He took a deep breath and paused for several seconds before continuing. "The fear is back. I saw it yesterday, at Diagon Alley, when a people just beginning their return to a sense of normalcy had it ripped away. I saw it this morning, when a young muggle-born woman came to me, frightened, because the baseless hatred against her still existed. And I see it now, in all of your eyes."

He paused to scan their faces meaningfully. "Fear leads to a lot of things, very few of them positive. It leads to hatred, and to mistrust and to thoughtless action, all things that we as a people _cannot _afford!" Percy slapped the podium for emphasis, and everybody jumped.

"Fear also blinds even the wisest man to the truth. And the truth that everyone is missing here is that we_ have_ rode out the worst of the storm. We _have_ outlived the menace of tyranny—Lord Voldemort is dead." Percy let the name roll off his tongue for the first time. "Our greatest fault was that we expected his death to be the end. It isn't. There is still much work to be done, and it will not be accomplished if we do not work together." Another pause, another scan of the faces. "I know that nothing I can say will make you believe that everything will go back to being happy and easy. And that's because there _is _no simple course to take, no simple path to returning to the way it was before the war.

"But I can tell you what _won't _return us to peace and prosperity, and that's squabbling amongst ourselves and trying to place the blame for tragedies on the nearest scapegoat. If there's anything the past years have taught us, it's that the wizarding people need to work together! We won't get past this if we don't. We _can't_." He stopped for nearly a minute, thinking, and to his immense surprise no one else spoke. His last word seemed to echo about the silent room. "The remaining Death Eaters are desperate," Percy finally ground out. "Their master has been killed, the bulk of them imprisoned…they—are—_desperate_. That's why they attacked Diagon Alley. They were clinging to the last vestiges of their grandeur. They wanted to prove they still have power over us." Percy paused to take his glasses off, pinch the bridge of his nose and slip them back on.

"The Ministry failed." The words tasted bitter and acrid and _wrong _on Percy's lips, but he was amazed by the almost _lightened_ feeling in his chest by them. "We failed when we let those Death Eaters escape. But if you can still put some of your faith in us, then we will be able to track them down and insure that this sort of thing never happens again. And if you don't, you've let the Death Eaters win. If we all start fighting amongst ourselves, then we've shown the Death Eaters that they still have the power to inspire fear in our hearts. We have to show them that they don't! We need to show them, once and for all, that they've _lost_!"

Percy leaned back, away from the podium, feeling simultaneously light-headed and heavy-limbed. With no more words coming into his brain, he stared out at the crowd of faces before him and really saw them for the first time. The reality of the situation suddenly crashed over him.

He turned tail and all but fled the press room, not hearing the upswelling of applause that followed him.


	17. The One Where Percy Gets DrunkAgain

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: For those of you who don't remember or haven't read Proving Them Wrong (which I __**really**__ recommend you read, because it explains a lot of stuff, especially in this chapter), the "again" in the title refers to a scene in PTW where Audrey takes Percy to meet Aberforth and aforementioned grumpy bartender gets him really, really drunk. _

_This long-ass chapter takes place the day after the previous one. _

Chapter 17

Harry woke up to the pleasant smell of bacon wafting up from below. Bright sunlight was streaming into the room from around the heavy velvet curtains hanging over the window. He untangled himself from the heavy crimson and gold blankets and reached for his glasses. Harry plucked them from the ornately carved wooden bedside table and slipped them onto his nose. His godfather's bedroom came into focus.

Just like every morning he had woken up in Sirius' bed, Harry couldn't help but grin at his surroundings. The Gryffindor banners, the posters of motorcycles and muggle girls—nothing made him feel closer to his godfather than imagining him decorating this room for the sole purpose of infuriating his parents. Harry was eternally grateful that Ginny realized how important this was to him and had no objection to him sleeping in a room filled with pictures of girls in bikinis.

Harry hauled himself out of bed, yawning. He changed into a shirt and jeans and made a half-hearted attempt to tame his messy hair. Entirely unsuccessful, he wandered out onto the landing and down the stairs, following the smell of sizzling bacon to the kitchen.

"Mornin', Harry," Ron grunted from his seat at the table, where he was gulping down eggs at an alarming rate. Ginny paused only to roll her eyes at him in mock disgust before she jumped up to kiss Harry.

"Had a bit of a lie in, did we?" she teased lightly, pulling out the chair next to her. Harry sat down, accepting a heaping plate of eggs, bacon and toast from a happily humming Kreacher.

"Yeah," he responded sheepishly, sipping some pumpkin juice and trying not to feel too guilty about it. Harry had this nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he should be out there, hunting down the Death Eaters that had attacked Diagon Alley and could have killed Ron, George and Percy. But every time he acknowledged this feeling, Harry also felt uncomfortably vain in automatically assuming that he was more skilled than trained Aurors. "Where's Hermione?" he asked after glancing around the kitchen and seeing she wasn't there. The four of them had moved into Number 12, Grimmauld Place after they felt that Mrs. Weasley could take them leaving the Burrow.

"In the next room," Ron replied thickly through a mouthful of muffin. "She's making a firecall with someone."

Harry nodded idly, tucking into his breakfast for a few minutes. "Are you going to work on Hogwarts today?" he finally asked Ginny, who had been spending most of her summer helping to rebuild the school after the sizable damage it had sustained in the final battle of the war.

"Yeah," Ginny replied brightly. "We're starting to reestablish the security spells around Ravenclaw Tower. We completely finished the Quidditch pitch yesterday."

"Good to know where your priorities lie, Ginny." Harry turned in his chair to see Hermione, already dressed in her robes, walk into the kitchen. She smiled at them.

"The Quidditch pitch is just as important as any other part of the school," Ron said indignantly, wiping his chin.

"You know what's really upsetting about that comment, Ron?" Hermione said with a theatrical sigh as she poured herself a cup of tea, gently refusing as Kreacher tried to do it for her. "I think you actually believe it."

Harry and Ginny snorted into their breakfasts as Ron grumbled something unintelligible. Before anyone could say anything, they heard the sound of an owl tapping on a window. "That'd be my _Prophet,_" Hermione said cheerfully. She opened the window for the owl and, tucking a Knut into the small pouch tied to its foot, took the newspaper. "If you ask me," Hermione continued, unfolding the paper and sitting down, "we should be concentrating on schooling the muggle-born children who were excluded from school last year, rather than—" she suddenly broke off, her eyes widening in surprise as they settled on the front page.

"What?" Harry, Ron and Ginny asked in unison.

"Percy's on the front page!" Hermione responded excitedly, laying the paper out flat on the table. Harry leaned forward to see the _Prophet. _Ron's older brother was standing at a podium of some sort, delivering a speech. "Oh, _Merlin…_" Hermione gasped, brown eyes flashing back and forth as she quickly read the text.

Harry caught sight of the title of the article and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "_Ministry Admits Cover-Up?_" he read aloud. "What did they cover up?"

"What's this have to do with Percy?" Ron added, frowning. He leaned over and made a grab for the paper, but Hermione swiftly jerked it out of his reach. She started to read aloud.

"'Yesterday evening, Percy Weasley, Ministry worker and older brother of Harry Potter's friend Ron, called an unauthorized press conference—' "

"Unauthorized? _Percy_?" Ron cut it, scoffing in disbelief. "They must be thinking of someone else."

Hermione silenced him with a quick but lethal glance and continued reading. "—'an unauthorized press conference to address the rumors of an escaped Death Eater found dead under the rubble at Diagon Alley.'"

Harry blinked in shock as Ron's jaw dropped. "Wait," the redhead interrupted slowly. "You mean that Death Eaters who escaped from the Ministry prison attacked—"

"Yes, you prat!" Ginny snapped testily. "_That's_ what that means. Thank you for pointing that out." She turned back to Hermione. "Keep reading, Hermione."

"'Weasley confirmed the rumor, stating that eight Death Eaters had escaped custody the morning of the Diagon Alley attack. Five were subsequently captured, in addition to the one found dead at the scene. He was told not to release this information to the general public by a superior, but chose to do so anyway, admitting a Ministry failure in allowing a breakout.'" Hermione paused, eyes moving back and forth at breakneck speed as she continued reading the article.

Harry was momentarily stunned. Percy had admitted a Ministry failure? He had never known Percy very well, but the third Weasley had shown time and time again that he believed in the Ministry above all else. Harry snuck glances at Ginny and Ron, and saw his own shock reflected tenfold on their faces.

Hermione tore open the newspaper to a different page. Percy's muted voice floated up from the second picture of him. "'Despite this terrifying revelation, anti-Ministry sentiment has not grown, as many would expect it to. In fact, Weasley's impassioned speech was greeted with applause, and the majority of the wizarding population seems more willing than ever to cooperate with the Ministry.'" She leaned down and put her ear close to the page, obviously listening to Percy speak. "He's brilliant," she breathed after a minute. Ron almost rolled his eyes.

Harry leaned back in his chair, trying to process this new information. So there were two more Death Eaters out on the streets? He swallowed uneasily. "I think…I think I'm going to go to the Auror office today. Volunteer to help."

Hermione nodded distractedly, still listening. Ginny smiled slightly at him. "We all already know that, Harry," she said, and leaned over to kiss him again. "Hermione, do you want to come help out at Hogwarts with me? They're probably going to want to put up more protective spells up after this."

Hermione shook her head, carefully laying out the _Prophet _on the table in front of Ron, shooting him a pointed glance. "I'm sorry, Ginny, I can't. I'm actually meeting Fleur today."

Ron's jaw dropped. "Wait. You mean…Fleur? As in Bill's wife?" Harry agreed with Ron's disbelief—the Weasley women and Hermione had stopped hating Fleur after she'd proved her devotion to Bill, but the Frenchwoman was definitely not one of their favorite people.

"Yes, Ronald," Hermione said condescendingly. "Honestly, do we know any other Fleurs?" She plucked her traveling cloak from the stand in the corner and draped it over her shoulders. "I'll be done by late afternoon…maybe we can all go out for supper?"

"Sounds good," Ginny replied cheerfully, waving as Hermione disapparated.

Harry turned in his chair to face his girlfriend, who seemed unsurprised by Hermione's actions. "Do you know what she's up to?" he asked.

Ginny shrugged. "No idea, but I bet it's good." With a small grin, she stood up and pulled her long red hair back into a ponytail. "I'm supposed to stop by the Ministry to get permits for some security spells. Come on, I'll go with you to the Auror office first."

"Er… okay. See you later, Ron." Harry stammered, still trying to comprehend everything that had just happened. He gulped down the remainder of his breakfast and followed her out of the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron crumpling the newspaper into a ball.

* * *

Bill followed a hurrying Charlie down the well-lit corridor. They had already been turned around at least twice and passed dozens of doors with gleaming metal numbers nailed to them. Bill could see Charlie was beginning to get annoyed.

"What was the number again, Bill?" Charlie asked, suddenly slowing down.

"221 B," Bill replied. They had gotten Percy's new address from the Ministry records, after Charlie had shown up at Shell Cottage that morning with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, wanting to go see their little brother. Although Bill had been disturbed by the news of the breakout and subsequent cover-up, he was incredibly proud of Percy for telling the truth and giving such an inspiring speech. He and Charlie had stopped by his office (because even though it was Saturday, that's where he would logically be), but apparently Percy was actually observing weekends now.

"Here it is," Charlie said, stopping and pounding on Percy's door. Bill leaned against the wall and waited. He could hear some quiet noises coming from inside the flat as Percy made his way to the door. It swung open, revealing their younger brother.

Bill was shocked to see that Percy was still in his pajamas, but before he could comment on it Charlie shoved the copy of the _Prophet _in his face. "You're on the front page, Perce," he said.

Bill grinned at Percy, who he expected to be extremely pleased, as his little brother readjusted his glasses and focused on the paper. Percy frowned and grabbed it from Charlie's hand. "I look awful in this," he said in disgust, turning around and walking back into his flat. It was true—Percy had looked unusually disheveled, with his hair wild and unruly. When Percy didn't reappear in the doorway, Bill shared a glance with Charlie, who shrugged, and they followed him inside.

"You don't look much better now, mate," Charlie commented as Percy sat down at a small table in the kitchen area, folding up the paper without even looking at it. When Percy looked up at him and scowled in response, Bill realized with a thrill of worry just how true that statement was. Percy looked truly haggard—his hair was even messier and streaked prematurely gray. His eyes had dark bags underneath them and were painfully bloodshot. Bill's big brother instincts were immediately awakened.

"Are you alright, Perce?" Bill asked anxiously, reaching out to put a brotherly hand on Percy's shoulder.

"I'm fine," Percy muttered, rubbing his forehead. Charlie frowned and sat down at the table with him.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" Bill questioned. It certainly didn't look like it. Bill couldn't understand why—he had figured that Percy would be as full of himself and pompous as ever after being portrayed so positively on the front page of the _Daily Prophet. _

Percy sighed uneasily, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his rumpled pajama top. "I've been having the nightmares again," he said softly, not meeting their eyes.

Bill felt his stomach clench. He was the only one who knew about the nightmares Percy had had about Fred's death after the battle—he had been worried about Percy living alone in Ministry housing, and when he visited his brother one night he had found Percy in the throes of a violent nightmare. Percy had sworn a few weeks later that they were gone, but apparently that wasn't true.

"What nightmares?" Charlie demanded.

"It's none of your business," Percy said dismissively, running his fingers through his hair and trying to straighten it.

Bill sighed, taking the only remaining seat at the table. "You know, my old offer still stands. Fleur took Dreamless Sleep Potion after the Triwizard Tournament. There's nothing wrong with it. I could get y—"

"I told you, Bill," Percy interrupted coldly. "I won't take it. It dulls the mind." Bill opened his mouth to argue, but Percy cut him off. "That's _final_."

Awkward silence filled the room. Bill struggled to find something to say, looking around for anything in the flat to comment on. His salvation came in the form of a cat trotting over to him. "I didn't know you had a cat, Percy," he said. It was the oddest cat Bill had ever seen—its fur was golden and thicker around the neck, like a lion's mane. It had intelligent green eyes and two gray stripes running down its back.

"He's not mine," Percy replied sullenly. "He's Audrey's." Bill leaned over to pet the cat. "Don't do that," Percy warned. "He'll probably bite you."

Bill ignored him and reached down to scratch the cat's ears. He purred happily at the touch. "Oh yeah, this little guy's just vicious, isn't he?"

Percy scowled even deeper.

"Where is Audrey, anyway?" Charlie asked, looking around the flat.

"She's not here," Percy muttered, squeezing the bridge of his nose. Something in his tone told Bill very clearly something was wrong.

"What happened?" Bill asked as the cat leapt into his lap, still purring.

"We had a fight," Percy replied curtly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bill frowned. _This is just like him! How could he drive away the best thing that's ever happened to him? _"About what?" he questioned sharply.

"Politics," Percy grumbled. Bill and Charlie exchanged a shocked glance. "I thought…I thought that maybe, since I…" he trailed off, plucking idly at his pajama top. "But we haven't talked."

Bill's anger receded somewhat at the look on Percy's face. He was obviously upset about what had happened…

"Do you want to get a drink, or something?" Charlie suggested weakly, seemingly unnerved by Percy's lack of normal confidence and bluster.

Percy narrowed his eyes and gave him a disbelieving look. "It's _morning, _Charlie."

"Oh, yeah," Charlie said sheepishly. "Well, uh, maybe we'll come back later and take you out?"

Percy sighed heavily, putting on his patented 'I'm-above-your-childishness' look. "Sure." Bill blinked in surprise and tried not to let his concern show, lest it offend his highly independent little brother. The fact that Percy hadn't immediately refused certainly showed that something was wrong. "Come back after dinner," his little brother said firmly.

Bill was reluctant to leave him alone, but he figured that he better not push it or Percy would change his mind about going out for a drink. "Alright," he said, standing and pulling Charlie up with him. "We'll be around later. Just read that paper while we're gone, okay?"

"Whatever you say," Percy replied tiredly, but made no motion toward it.

Even as they walked out into the corridor and Percy's door swung shut behind him, Bill was already making plans to make this an interesting night for his uptight little brother.

* * *

"This is a nice place," Hermione commented, looking around appraisingly. "I'm surprised Percy would live here, though. I think that he and Audrey must be the only non-muggles in the building."

"I'm pretty sure Audrey picked the building," Ginny responded, and the two moved to stand side by side and talk.

"We've cleaned out most of the creature infestations," George was telling Charlie. "But the Pygmy Puffs must have mutated; I keep finding neon yellow and green ones. I've been thinking that I can breed them in loads of different colors, maybe even spotted…"

Bill soon lost track of all of their chatting as he corralled their party onward. Trying to get all the Weasley children (and Harry and Hermione, of course) from one location to the next together was like trying to herd overexcited pixies. They had already gotten several nasty looks from tenants disturbed by the noise they were making. But it would be worth it when Percy opened his door and saw the entire clan waiting to take him out for a drink.

"Why are we doing this, again?" Ron grumbled, kicking at an upturned corner of carpet. Harry shot him an uneasy look, and Hermione stopped talking with Ginny long enough to glare reproachfully at him.

"Because Percy needs to loosen up. He's upset about his fight with Audrey." Bill replied, fixing Ron with a hard look that turned his youngest brother's ears bright red. "And because _I_ said so."

"And it'll be fun," Charlie said in an overly cheerful tone. "I haven't been out for a drink in ages, it's been so busy at the Reserve."

"Is Fleur coming, Bill?" Hermione asked casually.

Bill shook his head. "No. I asked her to come, but her little sister Gabrielle is coming to England tonight and she's too young to go to a pub." Hermione nodded, looking slightly disappointed. "Why do you care, though? You and she were together all morning." Bill was getting suspicious—Fleur had been evasive when he'd asked her what they were doing together. He had no doubt that his wife and Hermione were up to something.

"I was just wondering," Hermione replied loftily. She stopped walking suddenly, turning to the nearest door. "221 B. This is it, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Bill said. George, who was closest, knocked on the door.

The door swung open to reveal Percy, who did a double-take as he came face-to-face with nearly every living Weasley and honorary Weasley sibling. Bill hurriedly appraised Percy—he looked much better than this morning, with his hair combed and eyes their proper color again. "What—" Percy started, shook his head a little and tried again. "What are you all doing here?" he questioned, his voice tight and formal.

"Taking you out," Charlie said with a grin. Percy crossed his arms, looking uncomfortable as he scanned all their faces.

"All of you?" he asked haughty tone almost disguising the nervousness in his voice.

"Yeah." George reached out quickly and unceremoniously dragged Percy out of his flat. "We're going to The Dark Horseman."

"I've never heard of that establishment," Percy responded doubtfully, tugging his sleeve out of George's grasp. "I assumed we'd just go to the Three Broomsticks."

Bill shook his head. He'd thought about that, but decided that the so-called "Golden Trio" would get far too much attention if they went to such a popular place. The Dark Horseman was a smaller, lesser known but still fantastic place that some of his Curse-Breaker friends had told him about. "This is place is just as good," Bill said, offering out his arm for Percy to take. "We're just going to apparate."

Percy heaved a magnificent sigh, and, as if it was a huge chore, he put his hand on Bill's forearm and they were both sucked into compressing darkness.

They burst out onto a dark cobblestone street, illuminated only by flickering streetlights. As their other siblings began to appear as well, Bill saw Percy examining the pub before them with an almost resigned look on his face. Bill frowned—Percy obviously wasn't planning on enjoying himself tonight. He bit back an urge to snap at Percy—they were just being nice, trying to get him to have a good time for once. The least he could do was _try_ to have fun.

Their party trooped inside the little pub, and Bill looked around nostalgically at the familiar surroundings, the dark, polished wooden tables and low lighting that gleamed off the impressive collection of bottles behind the bar. He used to come to this place at least once a week with his mates a long, long time ago. Back when he was fresh out of Hogwarts; before he had met Fleur, before the fear of the war…

As their laughing, chattering group squeezed into a booth, Bill walked up to the bar to order drinks. Percy, who Bill guessed wanted to put off the socializing with the family part of the evening off as much as possible, followed him.

"Hi," Bill greeted the bartender, who certainly wasn't the same pretty, young girl all his mates had dared each other to ask out. "Can we have…uh…" Bill did a quick mental count. Seven Weasleys…minus Fred…plus Harry and Hermione… "Eight Butterbeers, please?"

"Seven," Percy corrected stonily. Bill turned and frowned at him.

"You have to have a _drink_, Percy," he said, unable to keep the annoyed edge off his voice.

Percy locked his gaze onto Bill's as he amended the order. "Seven Butterbeers and one firewhiskey, please."

As the bartender moved to fill the order, Bill's eyebrows flew up. "Firewhiskey, Perce?" he asked incredulously. He never would have thought Percy was the kind of guy who liked the hard stuff.

Percy scowled at him in response and, when the bartender placed a glass of smoking liquid in front of him, he picked it up and strode over to the booth, leaving Bill to levitate the frothy mugs of Butterbeer behind him. As they sat both sat down, Bill passed out the mugs and Percy sipped at his own drink. He winced as he swallowed the liquid.

"Have you ever had firewhiskey before?" Ginny asked him, grinning.

"Once," Percy replied tersely, and didn't offer up any more information. He provided similar monosyllabic answers to any questions posed to him, and eventually Bill gave up trying and got sucked into a conversation about the new Quidditch season that was starting up.

After nearly half an hour, most of which was spent arguing with Ron about the Canons, Bill glanced back at his silent brother and saw with amusement that Percy had barely drunk half of his firewhiskey. Suddenly, Percy snatched the glass up, threw his head back and drained the remainder in one gulp. Bill was about to laugh when he saw the glass magically refill itself to the brim. And then Percy drained it again. Smoke curled from his lips.

Bill realized that Percy must have gotten a automatically refilling glass…which meant that he could have already drank an entire bottle's worth without anyone noticing. And Bill couldn't help but notice that the hand he was holding his rapidly refilling glass in was shaking.

"You alright, Perce?" he asked, cutting off Ron, who was halfway through a rant about the Hollyhead Harpies new manager.

Percy glanced up momentarily from his firewhiskey. "I'm _brill_-_iii_-_ant_," he responded loudly, dragging out each syllable in a singsong voice and swishing his drink around. He actually _giggled_ when some spilled onto the wooden table and began to corrode it.

Everyone fell silent and turned in their seats to stare at him incredulously. Only George had the ability to verbalize what they were all thinking. "What the _hell_, Percy?"

"Watccher language, George," Percy slurred back indignantly, taking another gulp of firewhiskey. He blew out a perfect ring of smoke directly into a bewildered Charlie's face. Bill was pretty sure Harry almost laughed, but mostly everyone just sat gaping in disbelief at their normally prim and proper brother.

"He's _drunk_," Ginny gasped, eyeing the glass as firewhiskey began to swell up in it. "I can't believe it!"

A delighted, dangerous grin spread across George's face. "Percy's first time being drunk! Our little prefect's finally growing up!"

"'S not the first time I got drunk," Percy argued.

"Well, when was the last time?" Charlie asked, trying to keep down his snickering.

"With Aberforth," Percy replied dreamily. "At the…at the…Hog's something," he finished lamely.

"You got drunk with Aberforth Dumbledore at the Hog's Head Pub?" Hermione exclaimed, almost at the same time Harry sputtered, "Wait, really?"

"Yeah," Percy replied solemnly, gaze dropping back onto his glass. He shook it back and forth a few times and silence settled over their booth. "Audrey thinks he has sex with goats," Percy said contemplatively.

"_What?_" Bill yelled as Ron sprayed his mouthful of Butterbeer over the table. Ginny collapsed into a fit of violent giggles, trying to suppress them by burying her face into a shocked Harry's shirt.

"But I think they're just his friends," Percy continued, not noticing their reactions at all. "I think he's lonely." His eyes suddenly widened. "I shou—I should go see him." Percy struggled to get to his feet. Bill and Charlie leapt up and pushed him back down into his chair.

"Sorry, Perce," Charlie grinned, clapping him on his shoulder. "You're a bit too drunk to be going off on your own."

"I'm _not_—" Percy started sullenly, and then broke off, face taking on a surprised expression as he blinked owlishly at the wall off to the right. Everyone followed his gaze but saw nothing unusual at the point he was fixated on. Percy continued to stare at it, enraptured, for several minutes while the Weasley's exchanged confused and amused glances. Suddenly a look of epiphany crossed over his face. "He's a complete twat!" Percy burst out.

Bill felt his jaw drop open—he'd _never_ heard Percy use that kind of language, _ever_. Ron choked on his drink again and this time it ended up all over Harry and Charlie. George and Ginny were laughing so hard they could barely breathe. Hermione let out a loud gasp, covering her mouth.

Bill figured he'd have to ask the question. "Uh…who's a twat, Perce?" he managed to force out.

Percy fixed him with a serious look. "My boss," he replied.

Bill almost thought George was going to die, right then and there from his wild paroxysms of laughter. "Okay," Bill said, trying to keep down his own laughter for the sake of being the mature eldest brother. He reached out and pulled Percy's firewhiskey away from him, ignoring the squawk of protest. "We've learned a very important lesson about what Percy's like when he's drunk. I trust that none of you are going to take advantage of this?"

"Of…of _course_ not," George choked out, clutching desperately at his sides. Bill could already see wicked plans forming in his little brother's eyes, which was expected, but he could have sworn that he saw Charlie's eyes light up as well…

"Who do you mean, Percy? Why do you say that?" Hermione inquired, fingering her mug of Butterbeer and shooting a disapproving look at George.

"Diocletian. And I say that because he _is_," Percy said earnestly. "And he's going to_ sack _me." Percy suddenly made a lunge for his firewhiskey. Bill managed to pull it away just in time.

"Why do you say that?" Hermione pressed, eyes wide. Bill waited curiously for Percy to answer; why would he get sacked after his great speech yesterday?

"Because he's little bastard who…who tried to make me get wizard's robes when I showed up in muggle clothes. And he told me not to talk about the…the…_you know_," Percy verbally fumbled, frowning at his words as they came out wrong.

"Cover-up?" Hermione asked quietly. Percy moved his head in a circular motion Bill figured was his attempt at a nod. "Percy…Kingsley didn't know about that, did he? I mean…he wouldn't have approved of it, would he have?"

Percy scoffed. "I dunno. Maybe if he _showed up_, you could ask him. But he isn't, you know…_showing up_."

"He's catching Death Eaters," Harry said, slightly defensively. Obviously he caught the scorn on Percy's voice. "That's the most important thing right now. So what if he's not at the Ministry?"

"_Soooo_…" Percy replied, drawing out the word. "He leaves a bloody sodding_ twat_ like Diocletian in charge!"

"Hey Percy," Charlie suddenly spoke up, eyes bright and excited. "Can you tell us again how you got those scars?"

Bill frowned. He wanted to continue talking about what was going on at the Ministry. "Charlie, why—?"

Charlie quickly cut him off. "Bill," he whispered intensely. "You know he's not been telling the truth about those scars, and everything else that went on during the war! This is our chance to get him to tell us the truth!"

Bill licked his lips nervously. He really didn't like the idea of taking advantage of a drunken Percy, but he knew as well as Charlie that Percy wasn't being entirely truthful, and he _was_ quite curious…

"I told you," Percy muttered, slamming his left palm so forcibly against his cheek that Hermione jumped. "It…it was the dragon." Bill saw Charlie's shoulder slump in disappointment—that was what Percy had said when he was sober, as well. "Audrey said that he saved my life," Percy continued. "But _I_ think he coulda done it without toasting me."

"Saved your life?" Ron said in confusion. "From what?"

Percy frowned at him for a few minutes. Then he switched his gaze over to Hermione. "You can do better," he told her seriously.

Fury flooded Ron's face. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he shouted, rising to his feet. Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled him back into his seat.

"I mean," Percy said matter-of-factly, looking down his nose at Ron, "you are really, really, rah-_hill_-ee thick." Ron's jaw clenched, and Hermione whispered something to him, probably trying to get him to calm down. "It was during the _war_, Titus saved me from the _Death Eaters_."

"What?" Bill exclaimed. _What was Percy doing during the war that he needed saving from Death Eaters? By a _dragon_? _

Charlie looked even more excited. "Titus! That's what she named the dragon, right?" Charlie looked like he was remembering something, finally putting something together. "Wait a minute… was this at that abandoned factory?"

"Abandoned factory?" George's eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah!" Charlie said enthusiastically. "Our Reserve got a call the day after Christmas, about a loose dragon. I went there, but we couldn't rein in the Horntail, and it looked like he had torn up this ancient muggle factory. But later Audrey showed up, and after she left I found there was a lot of curse damage to the premises." Charlie turned back to address Percy. "What happened at the factory?"

Percy opened his mouth to respond, and nearly everyone leaned forward, eager to hear what he was about to say, but then a distraught expression passed over his face. "He's dead," Percy said softly.

Bill blinked in shock. "Who? Who's dead, Percy?"

Percy turned his glass sadly over in his hands. "Ayden," he murmured. "Audrey still hopes to find him…but it's been months. He's gone."

"Ayden," George said thoughtfully. "I know that name. Tonks came to our shop asking about him. I think she thought he was a Death Eater, or something."

Everyone jumped in shock as Percy bolted upright, slamming his palm down on the table. "No!" he shouted, sounding slightly desperate. "He's not a Death Eater! He _never _was a Death Eater!" Percy grabbed at his fiery red hair, and slipped back down into his chair. "It wasn't his fault…" he looked back up, eyes settling on Ginny for some reason. "It wasn't his fault…"

Bill looked around at everyone's befuddled faces. "Percy…what's going on with you?" he asked, unable to think of a specific question to pose.

Percy just shook his head sullenly and didn't respond. Charlie looked supremely frustrated. After a while, when everyone realized that he had stopped acting strangely, the conversation picked back up again. Percy remained silent, simmering.

Eventually, they got to talking about their times at Hogwarts. Bill contributed with a few stories about the various eccentric Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers they'd had and how they lost their positions. They all laughed at Charlie's animated tales of dealing with Hagrid's wild and dangerous creatures. Finally, Charlie came to the crown jewel of his repertoire of school mischief.

"You lot have heard the story about the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match in my last year, right?" Charlie asked, eyes bright as he took a swig of Butterbeer. Bill grinned—this was one of his favorite stories, and he was envious that it had happened a year after had left the school.

Ron and Ginny exchanged a bemused glance. "No…" Ron said slowly.

George jaw dropped. "Wait, seriously? You've never heard this?" Ron and Ginny again shook their heads. "Charlie," George continued, pretending to get choked up and wiping at imaginary tears on his cheek. "I think we've failed as brothers. I mean, how can they not know about the Flying Pink Snakes match?"

Bill grinned even wider, and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Percy had perked up and was now listening to the conversation.

"Well," Ginny said impatiently. "Are you going to tell us or not?"

"Okay, okay," George said, holding his hands up palms out to silence any extraneous conversation at their booth. His eyes were shining with glee as he told the tale of the day that the entire Slytherin Quidditch team had shown up late for a match and with their robes charmed an irreversible bright pink…and flashed crimson and gold whenever Gryffindor scored. George looked happier than Bill had seen him in a long time, and soon the younger kids were all roaring with laughter.

"And what really makes this Hogwarts legend," George concluded dramatically, "is that, to this day, no one knows who it was that pulled the greatest prank on the Slytherins in history."

"Itwame," Percy mumbled. Bill glanced at him and then cursed himself when he realized that, listening to George's story, he had dropped his guard. Percy had taken back the glass of firewhiskey and was nursing it again.

"What did you say?" Charlie asked, giving Percy a strange look.

"It. Was. Me." Percy said slowly, stressing each word. Bill, his mind suddenly utterly blank, gaped wordlessly at him along with everyone else.

A strangled sort of laugh made it over George's lips. "Don't…don't lie, Perce. It couldn't have been _you_…"

Percy coldly raised an eyebrow. Without a word, he drew his wand from his pocket like a sword and brandished it at George. "_Roseior._"

George's shirt and jeans suddenly shimmered and liquid neon pink blossomed out from the front of his chest and flowed outward until every centimeter was covered.

Bill's jaw dropped onto his chest. Percy_ had pranked the Slytherins? Percy! _

Pure glee erupted on George's face, and he practically climbed over Bill's lap and absolutely _tackled _Percy in an effort to hug him.

"I knew you were our brother, Perce!" he laughed as a bewildered Percy tried to straighten his glasses. Charlie was overcoming his shock as a huge grin covered his face.

"So I have you to thank you the best Quidditch game I've ever played?" Charlie reached out and grabbed Percy's hand, shaking it vigorously.

"Damn, Perce, I didn't think you had it in you!" Ginny beamed, swigging her Butterbeer. Hermione and Harry were staring at Percy, looking disapproving and impressed, respectively. Ron had yet to stop gawking.

Shocked at all the attention being thrown his way, Percy blinked in confusion back at them. Bill suddenly couldn't help himself—for the first time since they were little kids, he reached over and ruffled Percy's fiery red hair.

A smile slowly formed on Percy's face as his siblings crowded around him, and Bill couldn't help but be grateful that they were all finally acting like a family again.


	18. Flying Lessons

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! And now… Audrey's back! And just so you know, Percy's "Roseior" prank is from an extended flashback in the chapter Pretty in Pink in Proving Them Wrong. _

_**N.B. **__If you don't know who Winston Churchill and Neville Chamberlain are, you not only failed/ probably will fail high school history, you won't really understand part of this chapter. _

Chapter 18

When Percy woke up the next morning, he was sure that his death was imminent.

"Oh, _Merlin_!" he groaned, clutching at his pounding head. It felt like an Erumpent Horn had exploded inside his skull. Cursing under his breath, Percy rolled out of bed and fell to the floor with a loud _oompf! _He forced himself into a sitting position, cradling his aching head in both hands. It was several minutes before he could manage to find his glassesand suffer opening his eyes to the light to take in his surroundings.

He was in his own flat, which Percy figured was a very good thing. Unfortunately, he was wearing the same clothes he dressed in yesterday, and they reeked of alcohol.

Suddenly, disjointed memories of last night flooded into his pained mind. He had been upset about Audrey not coming to see him, and afraid that he was going to lose his job because he had single-handedly ruined the Ministry's chances of regaining the people's trust. He had accepted Bill and Charlie's offer of a drink (stupid, stupid, _stupid_)and he and the rest of the Weasley clan had gone out to some sleazy pub. There had been firewhiskey, lots and lots of firewhiskey and after that everything was fuzzy.

Percy dragged himself to the kitchen area and, finding his wand stuck haphazardly in his back pocket, magically filled a glass with water and downed it. He sat heavily down at his table, trying to remember what happened last night. They had been out at the pub…he had been drinking…they were talking, something about the Ministry…Percy growled in frustration, unable to recall anything else.

Yesterday's newspaper was folded up on the table. Remembering vaguely that someone had told him to read this (and he had ignored them), Percy smoothed it out and caught sight of the headline. '_Ministry Admits Cover-up', _with a picture of him front and center. Percy's heart dropped into his stomach—bloody brilliant, now he would be forever associated with the greatest post-war failure of the Ministry. Unable to read the article, Percy balled up the paper and threw it across the room. There was a loud hiss in response. _Great, _Percy thought in despair, _I hit the cat. _

Percy's stomach was churning uncomfortably, and at first he thought it was because of his fear of getting sacked, but when he felt vomit rise in his throat he realized that it was something else entirely. He barely made it to the sink before he was sick, heaving over and over until finally there was nothing left to throw up and his body stopped convulsing. _So much for the Weasley iron stomach, _he thought with a moan. He turned around slipped down to the floor, pressing his back against the wall.

Suddenly Percy caught sight of something brightly colored hanging from his cloak stand. With great effort, he made his way over to see exactly what it was. He blinked in confusion at what he saw.

It was one of his best three-piece suits—finely pressed pants, a wrinkleless, button-up, long-sleeved shirt, a vest, sports jacket and tie—along with a flowing traveling cloak. Every article of clothing was bright, neon pink. Percy stared at it in confusion for several minutes before memories began to unfog in his head.

_George had been telling a story…a Hogwarts legend… _Percy frowned. What did that have to do with his clothes being charmed pink? Suddenly he caught sight of a note sticking out of his jacket pocket. Percy removed it and, although his head howled in protest, he squinted through his glasses and read the note. It was George's handwriting, only it was overly messy, like he had been drunk when he wrote it.

_To my brother, who definitely wasn't the perfect prefect we all thought he was. _

Then it hit Percy—the story George had told had been about the time the Slytherin Quidditch team's robes had been charmed pink…and Percy, in his drunken state, had let slip that it was him who had played the prank almost a decade ago. Everyone had been stunned, and George had tried to tackle him…no, George had _hugged_ him… Percy allowed a smile to creep onto his face.

Leaving the pink suit hanging on his cloak stand, he wandered over to his closet and changed into a seldom used informal shirt and pair of pants. He dropped his old clothes, which still reeked of firewhiskey, on his bed. Pulling out his wand, he prepared for the task of cleaning them magically.

_Bang! Bang! Bang! _

Percy clapped his hands onto his ears and let out a shriek of pain at the agonizing noise. He hurriedly stumbled over to the door to open it, desperate for the earsplitting knocking to stop.

Percy pulled open the door and came face-to-face with Audrey. Surprise further jolted his nausea-plagued stomach.

Before he had a chance to talk or even get a good look at her face, she shoved something toward his chest. Percy flinched and automatically put his hands up to protect himself, but his fingers only curled around…a broomstick? Percy stared down in confusion at the charmed piece of light brown wood that Audrey had given him. He looked up questioningly at her.

Audrey's expression was unreadable. Her features were decidedly set to reveal no emotion and her eyes no longer sparkled with good humor or darkened with anger when they looked into his own. She was dressed in a black shirt and pants and her hands, clothed in fingerless riding gloves, were also clutching a sleek, black broomstick.

"Come on, then," she said gruffly, turning around and setting off down the corridor. Percy blinked stupidly after her, his brain stubbornly refusing to make sense of what was happening. He didn't know if it was because his hangover was affecting his mental processes or if Audrey was just acting very strangely.

"Audrey?" he called, wincing at his own voice as he raised it. She turned around, narrowing her hazel eyes at him. Percy gulped, thinking that she was about to start yelling. Just the idea made his head throb. "I…I feel that I should tell you," he forced out. "If you shout at me now, I might actually die."

Audrey frowned, walking back over to stand in front of him, scrutinizing him. "You're hungover," she said slowly, a tone of shock in her voice.

"Uh…yeah." Percy replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He thought he saw a glimmer of amusement in Audrey's eyes…but no, he must be imagining things…

Percy jerked backward reflexively as she pointed his wand at him. "_Exebrius_," she said curtly, and a cone of swirling light blue light spiraled out of the thin piece of wood. Percy admired the radiant cloud billowing out into the air…until it shot directly toward him and down his throat.

Percy gagged as it felt like water gushed down his throat and filled his lungs. Pain exploded behind his eyes and his body convulsed and heaved as though he was going to be sick again. Just when he was sure that he was going to suffocate, the water ceased to flow, the pain level dropped abruptly and the dry heaving stopped. And once the affects of Audrey's spell died down, Percy realized that his head no longer was pounding and that his stomach had settled.

"Better?" Audrey asked, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. Percy nodded, surprised. "I've been experimenting with spells to counteract hangovers. I've been thinking of selling the incantations to your brother George so he can make a spellbook to sell in his shop. Now, _come on_." Balancing the broomstick on her shoulder, Audrey began to walk away. Percy stared after her uncomprehendingly, slightly light-headed from the spell Audrey had cast on him. Realizing that she still wasn't being followed, Audrey scowled and grabbed his arm. Before Percy could protest, she disapparated them both.

They appeared seconds later in bright sunlight, out on a grassy clearing ringed by thick forest. Percy pulled away from Audrey, spluttering indignantly.

"You can't _do _that!" he gasped. "We were in the middle of a muggle building, you can't just—"

"No one saw, Percy, it's fine." Audrey cut him off flatly, rolling her eyes.

"It is_ not_ fine!" Percy responded defiantly, unable to keep the edge of anger out of his voice as he compulsively dusted off his pants. Audrey scoffed, tugging on her ponytail with one hand and twirling her broomstick in another. Percy realized she wasn't going to acknowledge his complaints, and there was silence between them for several moments as he meticulously straightened the twigs on the tail of his broomstick. "Why did you even bring me here?" he finally asked testily.

Audrey glanced up from her grooming to fix him with a look that clearly said '_How can you seriously not know?_' "I made a promise, Percy, and I decided a long time ago that I would keep all my promises." Percy just blinked at her, unsure of what she was talking about. "I told you that I would teach you how to fly properly," she said in exasperation. "Now, _mount your broom_."

Percy stared incredulously at Audrey—they hadn't spoken in days and she kidnaps him from his flat to take him _flying_?

_At least she's here, _the little voice in his head pointed out. _At least she came to you. Just go along with it. _So Percy, with nothing else to do, he watched as Audrey swung her leg over her broom and copied the movement.

"Push off the ground," Audrey said curtly. "And hover at a few feet." She pushed off the ground and did a quick loop around, stopping to hover a meter or two above in the air and right in front of him. She stared at him expectantly.

Percy remembered with an uncomfortable twist of his stomach the last time he flew a broom—he had ended up in a painful crash. His nerves failed at the idea of doing that again.

"This isn't necessary," Percy said firmly, moving to climb off the broom. "I'm not going to—"

Audrey's eyebrows flew up and her hazel eyes took on a hard edge of steel. She bore down on him, drifting closer menacingly on her broom. "Percy," she interrupted, smoothly but with a definite growl to her words. "Push—off—the—ground."

Percy gulped, and he pressed his feet into the grass and then pushed off, rocketing upward. The air rushed forcefully out of his lungs and he let out a choked noise, tightening his hands and knees around the broom until the wood painfully into his skin. Realizing that he was flying upward at an alarming rate, Percy tried unsuccessfully to slow his ascent.

"I said to hover at a few feet!" Audrey called at him from somewhere below. Fear spiked in Percy's chest—he couldn't stop! He tried to yell but his lungs were being compressed by the cold air he was speeding through.

A dark shape shot past him and he heard Audrey shout, but the air whistling past his ears made it impossible for him to tell what she said.

Suddenly Percy crashed into a magical cushion as it blossomed into existence in his path. He bounced backward from the cushion and rocketed back toward the ground. _I'm going to crash! _Percy wailed internally as he came rapidly closer and closer to the hard ground.

"Pull up!" he heard Audrey scream. "Grab the front of the broom and pull up!"

Percy grasped the broom with both hands and yanked with all his might. He jerked up awkwardly with a grunt, somehow managing to float gently in the air as he clutched the broom so tightly his hands burned white. Audrey swept gracefully in front of him. "That was awful," she commented dryly.

"Well," Percy snapped back. "Maybe you could—" he broke off as the broom began to lose altitude again and he pulled up sharply, grimacing. "Maybe you could tell me how to do it!" he managed get out, leaning forward so that he was practically lying on top of the broomstick.

Audrey rolled her eyes again. "Sit _up_, Percy," she ordered, and he struggled to comply. His hands shook wildly as he lost stability. He cursed under his breath as he tried in vain to keep his broom from vibrating and jerking back and forth. "Relax," she commanded, doing a quick loop-de-loop on her own well-behaved broom. "You're gripping the broom too tightly with your knees. Loosen them."

_Loosen them? Is she insane? They're the only thing keeping me from falling! _"I can't!" he shouted back, sweat pouring down his face. "I'll fall!"

Audrey shook her head. "No, you won't. I won't let you. Just do it!"

The words _I won't let you _rang in Percy's ears and he slowly pulled his knees away from the broomstick, wincing as he did so. He would definitely have bruises tomorrow. Straightening his spine, Percy silently prayed for his broom to stop shaking. Maybe it—and he—weren't trembling so badly, but he was far from steady.

"Good," Audrey said approvingly, flying an easy circle around him and examining his pose. "Now, calm down. You won't be able to fly evenly if your hands are shaking."

"Oh, calm down?" Percy spat back sardonically without thinking. "Why didn't you just _say_ so?"

Audrey scowled at him for a moment, and then her eyes lit up suddenly, as if she had an idea. It was a dangerous expression. Percy saw her wrap her gloved hands around the handle of her broom and before he could react she was barreling toward him. Percy felt her shoulder crash into him and he was thrown back, gripping the broom with his hands and knees for dear life.

A scream tore from his lungs as he flew upward and sideways, turning over and over in the air. "Stop! Steady yourself!" Audrey barked, suddenly sounding an awful lot like his old roommate Oliver Wood. _A lot of good her orders do when I have no idea how to fulfill them!_ "Wait until you're upright and then grip the broom and throw your weight in the opposite direction!" Audrey continued, her voice disembodied as all Percy could see was a greenish and then blue blur as he spun. "Then pull the broom around sharply!"

Desperate for the spinning to stop, because he felt like he was going to vomit, Percy waited until he was looking downward and saw green and then he jerked his body weight in the opposite direction he was flying, grabbing the broomstick and tugging it hard, completely unsure of what it would do.

Percy let out an intense grunt of shock as he and the broom swung around violently, choking on his own breath. His head was still spinning, but the world had ceased to move. Chest heaving, he clasped the broom and sent a silent thanks to Merlin that he was still alive.

"That was good," Audrey said casually as she flew up in front of him. Her eyes were sparkling with an emotion Percy couldn't quantify, not when liters of adrenaline were coursing through his body. His stomach dropped into his shoes as he saw how high up he was. It was like he was looking out a window from Gryffindor Tower, except instead of a sturdy stone castle underneath him there was only a charmed cleaning utensil. "Not great, but good."

"Good? _Good?_" Percy exclaimed in disbelief. "You—you—you could have killed me!"

Suddenly Audrey dropped downward like a rock. Percy felt a slight flutter of worry, but he knew that she could handle herself on a broom without fear of being hurt. It took Percy several seconds to gain the nerve to lean forward and look down to see where she had went.

His brain barely had time to register the dark streak barreling toward him from below before Audrey struck him again, knocking him upwards, further and further away from the earth. So high up, he would break every bone in his body if he fell.

"Bear down!" Audrey shouted. "Focus your weight on the front of the broom!" Too terrified to do anything else, he followed her instructions. Soon he was heading downward in a dive at breakneck speed. "Pull up! Pull up!" Again, he yanked upward on the broomstick and came unsteadily out of the dive. He managed to stop moving and hover in place ten or so meters off the ground. "Not bad at all," Audrey commented.

Percy's limbs were shaky, boneless jelly and his mouth was sagging open, air rushing in and out of his lungs of its own accord as his chest spasmed uncontrollably. "Are—you—MENTAL?" he howled at her, his voice coming out in a high-pitched shriek.

Audrey flexed her fingers and re-gripped the handle of her broom, a determined expression on her face. Percy realized in horror that she was going to ram him again. Panic shutting down his normal brain function, adrenaline taking over, Percy pulled on the broomstick and he shot upward, Audrey sailing underneath him. He bore down immediately, steadying himself and sitting up on his broom, eyes seeking out Audrey as he waited for her next assault.

Without so much a pause, Audrey swung back around and shot toward him again. Percy threw himself to the left and rolled out of her way, arms clutching the broom to keep from falling. A hand seized the back of his shirt and hauled him upright, stopping the rolling. Audrey threw him away, and after two gut-wrenching loops he evened out again. "If you don't have the strength to break your momentum, you've got to counter-roll to pull out of something like that." Audrey told him matter-of-factly. For a blissful second, Percy thought she had finally regained her mental faculties…and then she whipped around and flew at him again.

Instinctively, he dropped below her, gasping for breath as he did so. She flipped around above him a few times before stopping and drifting to his side. "What is _wrong_ with you?" Percy panted, narrowing his eyes and jerking away from her, afraid of the next attack.

Audrey spun her broom around to face him, and Percy was shocked to see that her eyes were sparkling with humor, the corners of her lips curling upward in a hint of a smile. "I used to be afraid of water," she said lightly, making a lazy loop in the air. "Like, deathly afraid. I couldn't even take baths without having panic attacks. When I was six, my uncle threw me into a pool."

"Your uncle sounds horrible," Percy replied raggedly.

Audrey ignored that comment, continuing her anecdote. "I had to swim my way out, and after that, I wasn't afraid of water anymore. It was like…" he paused, as if considering the next words she was going to say. "Immersion therapy. I thought it might work for your fear of flying. And it did."

"W-what?" Percy questioned, trying to put a hard edge of annoyance into his voice, but it came out sounding befuddled and stuttering.

"Your hands stopped shaking," Audrey explained, nodding at his steady hands holding the front of the broomstick. "And your form's not bad."

"Oh," Percy replied stupidly. He sat up a little straighter on the broomstick. She was right—he was, paradoxically, calmer sitting on the broomstick than he had been before, more confident in his flying ability. He had never flown so much in his life, and he hadn't crashed yet. Maybe he was finally getting the hang of this. Experimentally, he rose slightly and dropped back down onto Audrey's level. "Right. Thanks." Several minutes of silence passed between them, filled with nothing except the twittering of birds and the air rushed past their ears.

"I never really liked Quidditch," Audrey said after a while. Percy blinked in confusion. "The only way I could get my mom to understand the function of a flying broom and buy me one was to tell her that it was used in a game. So I played Chaser my 3rd and 4th years. But really, I just liked flying." Audrey looked contemplative for a while, staring off into space. "Everything's different when you're flying. You're…free, and yes, I know that's clichéd. But you _are_, you're totally detached from the earth and problems just seem…less important. Easier to deal with.

"I listened to your speech, you know," Audrey continued quietly. "It was good."

Percy looked at her, his heart jumping into his throat. What did that mean? Did she forgive him? _She's the one who needs to be forgiven, _an ugly voice said in his head. Percy clenched his jaw and decided not to answer. He just stared up into the bright blue, cloudless sky and tried not to think about how high up he was.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked softly, turning her head to look into his eyes. "Was it just because I was mad at you?"

Percy shook his head, running his thumb up and down the polished broomstick. He still said nothing.

"I didn't think so. Then why?"

Percy weighed his possible answers. Was he just supposed to say that he got angry and got even? _Is that even the only reason? _That was a question Percy had grappled with all day yesterday while refusing to read the _Prophet. _He had been angry, yes, furious in fact, but there was more to it than that…He didn't want a lie to become the public opinion on his watch, not again.

"A great man once said that a lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on," Percy finally said.

A smile unfolded on Audrey's face. "Winston Churchill."

Percy's eyes widened in surprise. "You know of him? I mean, he was a British Prime Minister."

Audrey gave a long, laborious eyeroll. "Of _course_ I know who Winston Churchill is. Just because I grew up in America doesn't mean I know absolutely nothing about the world. It just means I know_ less_." She smiled. "I'm more surprised you know about him, being a pureblood, and all."

Percy nodded, understanding her reasoning. "In 3rd year muggle studies we were supposed to chose a famous muggle to write an essay on. I chose Sir Churchill." He smiled wistfully, remembering his easy, innocent early Hogwarts year. "The assignment was one foot of parchment, I ended up writing three."

Audrey grinned, letting one leg hang down from her broom and dangle in the open air. The act made Percy slightly nervous. "You would do that."

"I read books about him, at the town library, even before I started Hogwarts. I always admired him," Percy mused, staring up into the sky, keeping Audrey in the periphery of his vision to monitor her facial expressions. "He was a Minister, he was respected, powerful…but he was still funny. People…they _liked_ him." Percy trailed off, thinking. "I always wanted to be Winston Churchill…but I ended up being Neville Chamberlain instead."

"No, you ended up being Neville Chamberlain's Undersecretary," Audrey said flippantly, but Percy could tell that she was affected by what he was saying. "It's not the same thing, Percy," she added softly, almost comfortingly. "It really isn't." Percy felt a lump rise in his throat—Merlin, he wished he could believe what she was saying.

There was silence between them again, but this time it was pleasant and comfortable. Percy began to drift slowly way. Audrey reached out a gloved hand, gripped his broom and pulled him back.

"Audrey," Percy finally spoke up tentatively. "You remember that Archive for magical documents you told me about?" Audrey nodded. "Do you think you could, er…get me a job there, please?"

"What?" Audrey said, shock palpable in her voice. "You—_what_?"

"I wish I hadn't torn up my resignation…" Percy muttered to himself. It would be difficult and time-consuming to write another one, and the language from his old one would only need to be minorly adjusted to fit his current situation.

"Resig—" Audrey broke off, shaking her head violently. "Percy, for God's sake, you are _not _resigning!"

"Well, I don't want it on my résumé that I was sacked!" Percy shot back. "I'll never be able to find another job if that happens."

Audrey's jaw had dropped to her chest and she was gaping at him. Percy felt his skin prickle uncomfortably. What was wrong with her? "You didn't read yesterday's _Prophet_, did you? Or today's, for that matter?" she asked.

"No…" Percy hadn't been able to bring himself to see himself portrayed in the newspaper as some sort of…he didn't even know what.

Audrey's mouth closed, and then a laugh tore from her chest. "Percy, unless everything I know about politics is dead wrong, they _can't_ fire you!"

"What…what do you mean?" Percy managed to ask after several minutes of stunned silence.

"Well, do you have any idea how you were portrayed in the paper?" Audrey said, eyes shining and a grin playing on her features.

"No…" Percy said, feeling more and more bemused, but with an inexplicable wave of excitement creeping through him.

"You, Percy Weasley, are the new conscience of the Ministry." Percy blinked. "I mean, the public already thinks that the Weasleys walk on water after everything that went on during the war. Now, you're the Weasley who went against the wishes of the corrupt officials and gave the rallying cry for the people to come together and stand up to the Death Eaters. I mean, Perce," Audrey blew out a long breath of air, an expression of glee coming onto her face. "If they fire you, and the _Prophet_ reports on it, then they will be the huge monsters trying to lie to the people and sacking anyone who tells the truth, and they will _never _be able to get the people to cooperate. So, politically, no matter how much they hate you, they have to keep you on!"

Percy sat back on his broom, trying to process this information. If Audrey's reasoning was sound…and she was brilliant, so it had to be…then his job really _was_ safe. A slow grin spread over his face. Audrey, no doubt seeing this, threw back her head and let out an unbridled howl of laughter.

"I think I should go into the office," Percy said, hearing the smile in his own voice. For the first time since he had flown up here, Percy looked down. Disorienting vertigo suddenly overcame him. _How was he going to get down! _"Audrey…?" he squeaked.

Audrey laughed again, unrestrained and free. "Don't worry, I've got you," she told him, flying forward and grabbing his broom, guiding him carefully to the ground.

* * *

Next chapter: Audrey and Percy talk about what he believes in and Seamus wishes he was working at Hogwarts like everyone else.


	19. Idealism and Azkaban

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_**N.B.**__ There is a reference to C. S. Lewis' "The Screwtape Letters" in this chapter. For those of you that haven't read it, it consists of a bunch of letters written in the WWII era from a demon in hell to his nephew, a younger demon with the responsibility of watching a single person and keeping them from finding religion. Each letter is basically a statement about a different vice of mankind, and they all end with the sign-off, "Your affectionate uncle, Screwtape." _

Chapter 19

Percy dug through his closet, searching for an appropriate outfit to wear to the office which George hadn't turned neon pink. Audrey was sitting on the floor, lavishing attention on Lotus as the cat rubbed against her delightedly and purred. Percy had no idea why that cat seemed to love everybody but him.

He managed to salvage a dark muggle three-piece suit from his closet and pulled it on, glad to be dressed in something that was respectable and didn't stink of firewhiskey. Percy stepped into the bathroom and took care to perform his personal grooming spells, shaving his stubbled chin and jaw, casting a glamour over his reddened eyes and, grimacing, restored the gray strands of hair all too present on his head to their original fiery hue. He was extremely grateful to Audrey for devising that anti-hangover spell—without it, he'd be in even worse shape.

Percy leaned over the sink, studying his face in the mirror. He determined after nearly a minute of scrutiny that his haggard appearance was successfully reversed. After another couple minutes of prodding at his scars, he made the decision that he would leave them uncovered. Percy straightened up. He was ready to face the day.

"I hate to conform to gender stereotypes, Perce," Audrey called from the next room. "But shouldn't _I _be the one who needs to spend half an hour putting on my face, not you?"

Percy stuck his head out of the bathroom, putting a mock scowl on his face. Audrey just grinned in response, returning to scratching Lotus' ears. Percy walked over to sit on the bed and put on his shoes, meticulously tying them into perfect bows. It was something that most wizards did by magic, but Percy found it—and his whole morning routine—to be incredibly calming. With his shoes secure, Percy moved back over to the closet and began looking through his impressive collection of ties, looking for one to go with his suit. He had an almost obscene number of ties of every color—other than necessary expenses, bottles of muggle liquor, and books, they were the only thing he had spent his money on during his years of estrangement from his family.

"Hey, Perce?" Audrey said after a while.

"Hmm?" Percy acknowledged her, levitating all the remaining ties in the air and pushing them aside one by one as he decided against wearing them.

"Did you improvise that whole speech?" she asked, glancing up from the purring cat sitting in her lap.

"Well, yes," Percy replied, feeling his cheeks warm uncomfortably as he tossed a particularly ugly spotted tie to the ground. "I didn't have any time to prepare." He snuck a glance at Audrey to gauge her reaction.

"Impressive," she commented with a slight grin. A not at all uncomfortable warm feeling rose in his stomach. "Because, _damn_, that was some high-grade manipulative shit."

The warm abruptly cooled. Percy frowned. He turned to face her, confused and already feeling uneasy. "What do you mean by that?" he demanded, a slight edge polluting his voice. Audrey didn't even seem to notice.

The small grin still on her face, Audrey continued. "I mean, 'if you don't, you've let the Death Eaters win?' That's brilliant. You had them eating out of the palm of your hand. When did you learn to do that?"

Percy's concentration broke and all the ties plummeted to the floor, lying in little heaps on the dark carpet. "Excuse me?" he said. It came out little more heatedly than he had intended. Audrey's head shot up.

"That wasn't intended as an insult," she said hurriedly. "Exactly the opposite—that level of rhetoric, coming to you that easily? As long as you use your powers for good, and not evil, that's fantastic." Audrey smiled reassuringly, eyes sparkling, but it didn't ease the uncomfortable feeling that was sitting in the pit of Percy's stomach and crawling over his skin. "Did you hear about my, ahem, _issues_ with the American Government of Magic?" Percy had a vague idea, but it wasn't something he liked to think about. "Well, when I bust into that meeting, I had written my speech out weeks before and had practiced it over and over. I couldn't ever even conceive of a speech like you did in the press room."

Audrey's words rang in Percy's head. "I wasn't trying to be manipulative," he snapped sharply. _Why would she even think that? _"All I wanted to do was tell the truth."

"Really?" Audrey replied skeptically, eyebrows flying up. "I mean, you told the truth, and I'm proud of you for that," she grinned. "You played it perfectly. _You _were the good guy, the Death Eaters were the bad guy, end of story. You got people to forget about the Ministry and their incompetence, just for a few minutes, and in those minutes you won their trust and banded them together for a common goal. I never thought the guy I was afraid I would have to teach to lie would be capable of doing something like that."

"I wasn't trying to be manipulative," Percy repeated. "I was just trying to be _truthful_."

Audrey must have heard the offense in his words, because she quickly removed the cat from her lap, placed it on the floor, and leapt to her feet. "I'm sorry, Perce," she said, sounding sincere. "I really didn't mean it as an insult."

"I know you didn't." Percy rubbed at his forehead, immediately feeling lousy for taking so much offense at her innocent words of praise. _Why does it bother me so much? _He'd never been good at the subtleties of leadership, at being able to actually garner support just by talking to people. That took charisma, which he wasn't exactly knee-deep in. _But Audrey said you'd been able to convince them to support the Ministry in spite of what you'd told them about the breakout. How? What was different about two days ago in the press room? _He'd been forced to improvise, and he'd frozen up completely. With nothing else to do, he'd called upon what he'd been told by the best speaker he knew, Barty Crouch, Sr. (pre-Death Eater possession…or maybe _during _Death Eater possession, how the hell would he know?) He'd worshipped at the man's feet, and committed every piece of advice Crouch had ever bestowed upon him to memory. "I don't usually talk like that…I was trying to be like my old boss, Mr. Crouch." Audrey tilted her head to the side slightly, eyebrows creeping together in consternation. "He would always give out these little tokens of wisdom…" Percy recalled one of Crouch's favorite lessons, usually recited idly while Percy was making him tea or doing his paperwork.

"As a Ministry official, one of the most important skills you must develop is learning to communicate with the public." Crouch had told him. "The important thing is to keep your language concise and simple—don't go on, they don't want to hear it. People like to have decisions laid out for them, with a clear right and wrong path. Don't tell them this is what you're doing, of course—people prefer to think they reach their own conclusions. All you have to do is frame the situation and make it easy for them to choose the answer you want them to choose." _Like choosing between unquestioning devotion to the Ministry or the Death Eaters, _Percy thought guiltily, remembering his own words. _When it really _shouldn't_ be that simple… _

Percy suddenly registered the shocked expression on Audrey's face and realized that he'd recited Crouch's speech aloud. He blushed, and watched as Audrey blinked the surprise off her face and her eyebrows flew up. "Your affectionate uncle, Screwtape," she punctuated his statement.

Percy was confused by her literary reference—was she really implying that he had just said was on the same level as the devil? From everything he knew about her, he'd think Audrey would be unsurprised by this politician's view on society. "You're not that idealistic."

"But I thought _you_ were," Audrey replied softly. She sighed, running a hand through her ponytail. "Look, I'm sorry for not seeing that earlier. I'm a cynic, myself, and I've never thought that was a bad thing before. I've always been proud of it, really, thinking that nothing that people could do would shock me, but lately… she smiled sadly and let the sentence trail meaningfully off, looking away. "You know, you really amaze me sometimes, Perce."

Percy opened his mouth, closed it, and then blinked stupidly at her. He didn't quick understand what she was talking about. "What?" he finally managed to ask, wincing at his own poor articulation.

Audrey rolled her eyes playfully at him before continuing. "I never would have believed that someone who'd seen what you've seen could possibly still believe in people, but you do, I think," Audrey gazed at him, looking like something was dawning on her. "You believe that, aside from a few rotten ones, people are actually inherently _good_."

"Well, yes," Percy said, bewildered by the expression of competing disbelief and admiration on Audrey's face. "What's the point of doing anything if you don't believe that?"

"I don't know," Audrey mused, sporting an uncharacteristically pensive look. She grinned suddenly. "Merlin, Percy, you might be a prat, but you're just so goddamn _decent_." Percy, still highly confused, could do nothing but stare. "Now come on, pick a tie already so we can go."

"Er…alright then." Percy began to poke through the ties lying in little heaps on the floor with his shoe. Then his gaze landed on the bright pink suit hanging in the corner. Audrey followed his eyes and her jaw dropped.

"What is that?" she asked, a hint of a laugh in her voice.

"George dyed one of my suits pink," Percy explained as he walked over to it.

"Okay, seriously, you have to tell me. What did you _do_ last night?"

"I'm not quite sure," Percy replied, removing the neon pink tie and tying around his neck. He straightened it and smoothed out the fabric carefully. Audrey's laughter filled the room, and Percy glanced up to see her eyes shining at him.

* * *

At that exact moment, halfway across England, Seamus Finnegan was shivering in a recently cleared passage in Azkaban. Outside the crumbling stone walls, huge black waves were crashing against the prison. He drew his cloak tighter around himself, even though it was all but useless in shutting out the oppressive chill.

Seamus could hear the distant shouts of other workers in the levels above and around him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to listen, in case they were discussing a new Dark threat that had been uncovered in the newly plumed depth of the prison. The horrible things brought there by the Death Eaters during the war to guard and torture the prisoners had been hindering their efforts ever since they first tried to get Azkaban up and running again.

"Dementors!"

Seamus heard the distant warning cry and immediately raised his wand. He let the beautiful face of Parvati, who he'd been dating for over a year, to float to the front of his mind. He remembered one of the few nice moments in his otherwise hellish seventh year, when she had run her hand tenderly down his face, which was disfigured almost beyond recognition by bruises inflicted by the Carrows, and told him she thought he was handsome no matter what.

"_Expecto Patronum_," he whispered, and a fully formed silver fox leapt from the tip of his wand and began padding protectively in a circle around him. "Thanks," he murmured, and even though he knew he couldn't touch the silvery fox he reached out to it.

Seamus lit his wandtip and cautiously walked down the dark stone passage, his Patronus at his heels in case he encountered the Dementors his co-workers were yelling about. Cockroaches, spiders and rats fled before the pale green light being exuded by his wand. He recoiled in disgust, but was thankful that at least they weren't flying, or poisonous, or trying to sap all the happiness from his body.

After several more careful steps, the voices around him faded away and all he could hear was the pounding of the impossibly dark waves. Shuddering, Seamus wondered why he had chosen to clear the depressing stone tunnels of Azkaban instead of rebuilding the warm, familiar halls of Hogwarts. Maybe it was because seeing the castle, which was his second home, so run-down tugged at his heart. Maybe because so few people had volunteered to do the crucial job and Seamus wanted to be where he was needed most.

Or maybe it was the unnerving, numbing feeling that if it hadn't been for Neville hiding him in the Room of Requirement, he could very well have died here.

Seamus was forced to stop in his path when he reached a locked door. "_Alohamora,_" he murmured, and tried the door again. It still wouldn't budge.

He briefly considered tracking down one of the Curse-Breakers and getting them to undo whatever magic had been used to make this door impervious to unlocking charms. But that would mean going back up, probably running into the Dementors, and having to descend yet again down the dank and crumbling steps, feeling colder and colder with each one.

And Seamus wasn't up for that. "_Reducto_!" he shouted, throwing all his feeling and passion behind the spell, and he felt grim satisfaction as the stone door splintered. Gray clouds of dust filled the air, making Seamus choke. He clambered through the hole he had blasted, into the next chamber.

The unmistakable smell of death filled his nose.

* * *

Next Chapter: Percy talks to the Minister and tries to figure out why George keeps sending him firewhiskey and other weird things.


	20. Respect

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm afraid that now that school's started I won't be updating as regularly. AP Bio's a killer. School was actually canceled on Friday because of flooding, which is why I had time to write this. But I'll try to update as much as possible, so don't give up on this story!_

Chapter 20

Percy and Audrey apparated into the Atrium, which was at a much higher level of hustle and bustle than normal. And it wasn't just because of the press witches and wizards who were running back and forth with their cameras, recording devices and quills scribbling in notebooks of their own accord—Ministry workers were also rushing through the portal-like room, looking even more harassed and stressed than usual. Guilt stabbed through Percy's stomach—_he_ had caused that, that stress. It was_ his_ fault. And even though Audrey had assured him his job was safe with a logical argument, he was still terrified of losing it…

"Perce!"

Audrey's hiss and the elbow to his ribs brought Percy back to reality, just in time to see a high-level member of the Magical Maintenance give him a respectful nod. He blinked in shock and only managed to return the nod when the man had already been swallowed up the crowd. As Percy walked slowly through the mass of people, he was beginning to see that many more of them, even those who used to treat him like an uninteresting bug, were positively acknowledging his presence. There were a few who shot him nasty looks, and those who decidedly didn't meet his gaze, but they almost didn't bother him, as scattered as they were among the nods and "Mr. Weasley,"s.

_Is this what is feels like to be respected? _he wondered, an imperceptible smile tilting the corners of his lips upward as Audrey gave him a light congratulatory punch to the arm.

And then one of the press caught sight of him, and it was like the locusts descending on Egypt when they came at him, already throwing out questions.

"Should we stun them?" Audrey asked. Percy could hear the joking tone in her voice, but the way her hand twitched to her wand and her defensive body stance told him that she was actually considering it.

Before the press could reach them, a deep, commanding voice rang out through the Atrium. But as Minister Shacklebolt spoke, instead of feeling calm and soothed, Percy felt tight and uneasy. "All press witches and wizards will now clear the Atrium," Kingsley boomed from his position standing on the stripped floor where Magic is Might had once stood. "Statements will be given from the press room by Ministry officials, so there is no reason to harass the employees." A wry smile curled Kingsley's lips ever so slightly, and as the press reluctantly backed off and filed into press room the Minister's dark eyes landed on Percy.

"Come on, you should go talk to him," Audrey murmured, nudging him forward. "You didn't do anything wrong, make sure he knows you know that." Percy nervously nodded, buttoning the last button on his jacket. He pulled himself up to his full height, puffed out his chest and walked toward the Minister. Audrey followed him closely, but two big steps backward as he stood directly in front of the Minister.

"Minister Shacklebolt," Percy greeted quietly. _Don't bow, you idiot! _the voice scolded him, and Percy barely managed to curtail his bow and turn it into deep nod.

"Percy," Kingsley said back, matching Percy's serious, formal tone exactly. But there was a glimmer of humor in his deep brown eyes, and it reminded him of how, as a child, the adults he met always got that amused expression when he would refer to them as sir or ma'am. And that made Percy's skin hot with irritation. He wasn't a _child_ anymore. He was a serious, respected adult, and his boss would treat him like that, Goddammit! "I listened to your speech," Kingsley continued.

"As did the rest of the wizarding population of Britain," Percy replied coolly, puffing his chest out further.

Kingsley's lips twitched, but the motion was so fast that Percy couldn't tell whether he had almost smiled or almost frowned. "It was a very resounding speech," the Minister said, completely noncommittally.

Suddenly, Percy found himself unable to hedge around the most important question anymore. "Did you know about the cover-up?" he blurted out. For some reason, he knew that his siblings and their friends had trouble believing that the Auror had approved of it.

"Well, it's not really a cover-up anymore, is it?" Kingsley said with a slight smile. But Percy didn't want to play around this anymore. He was tired of the, as Audrey so aptly put it, bullshit.

"Minister," Percy said bluntly, without even the smallest flicker of a smile. "Did you?"

The smile slipped from Kingsley's face immediately, and his expression became totally serious again. This time, Percy could tell it wasn't an act. "I did not," he replied, voice low.

_Well, _Percy thought dully, _at least that's something that Ron, Harry and Hermione will enjoy hearing. _But somehow, knowing that made the situation much worse. Kingsley was a great Auror, yes, and an obvious war hero, but this proved that he wasn't prepared for the demands of being Minister. It took an entirely different skill set, and if Kingsley couldn't prevent his Senior Undersecretary from mounting a cover-up of this magnitude, then he didn't have those skills. Percy felt a pang of hopelessness for the future of the Ministry.

"But I'm not pretending that excuses me," continued Kingsley earnestly. "I admit that I didn't handle the Diagon Alley situation properly. I'm so used to being an Auror that my first thought was going after the Death Eaters. I should have realized that it was my job as Minister to stay behind and address the public, or at least leave someone better than Diocletian in charge." He sighed heavily, his broad shoulders moving up and down. "

"I'd save that speech for the cameras, Minister," Audrey piped up from behind Percy. He could hear the layer of bitterness in her voice, and it was simultaneously thick and imperceptible. _There's that cynicism she was telling me about, _Percy thought. It must get extremely tiring to view the world as Audrey did.

Kingsley grinned at her, seemingly unperturbed. "Do you think?"

"Oh, definitely," Audrey replied. She sounded magnanimous enough, but Percy could detect something akin to contempt in her voice. And he was pretty sure that Kingsley heard it, too, even if he didn't comment on it.

"Audrey," Percy admonished softly. Audrey shot him an apologetic smile and fell silent. "What happened to Diocletian?" he asked, turning his attention back to Kingsley.

The Minister blinked, grin fading away. "I demoted him." Percy frowned, and could practically feel Audrey's shock and rage beside him.

"Umbridge was demoted after Fudge left," Percy said quietly, knowing he didn't have to say anything more for his point to get across.

"You're right. I'll deal with him." Kingsley sighed again, rubbing his forehead and looking exhausted. "It's been so difficult trying to build a competent staff," he said. "A fair portion of our workers were sacked due to their corruption after the war, and pretty much everyone else had already fled the country, or left as soon as they could safely. Half of our current staff are brand-new, straight out of Hogwarts. I'm even considering hiring those who didn't get their N.E.W.T.s last year." Percy patiently waited for his point. "And that's one of the reasons I almost hired you as my new Senior Undersecretary." Percy's heart beat a little faster, but he registered sadly the word _almost. _"Because you're one of the few people in the Ministry with experience that I feel I can trust. That, and the fact that you stepped up and did my job when I was too thick to realize I needed to."

"But you decided not to hire me," Percy clarified dejectedly. He would have been the youngest Senior Undersecretary _ever _by a full _nineteen _years.

"I'm afraid so," Kingsley said, an odd expression spreading over his face. "I decided to go with Gerald Croaker. He'll be my new Senior Undersecretary and liaison to the Department of Postwar Affairs."

Audrey sucked in a sharp gasp of breath, for reasons unknown to Percy. He blinked. "I'm not familiar with that Department," he said slowly, unnerved by the delighted look dawning on Audrey's face.

"Well, I'd get familiar with it," Kingsley replied, eyes bright with good humor. "It's your Department, after all."

Percy's jaw dropped. "W-what?"

"It's very simple, really. I'm creating a new Department dedicated to dealing with the postwar issues, and I'm promoting you to the head of it."

Percy's mind was swirling—he had his own Department. _He had his own Department. _It took all his willpower not to jump up and down like an excited child. Postwar Affairs? That was an enormous amount of work, with loads of responsibilities. He would undoubtedly be managing dozens of workers, at the very least.

"Of course, it's a lot of responsibility," Kingsley continued. "And with your level of experience and work ethic, not to mention your current reputation, it's my opinion that you'd be the best person for the job. But I'd understand if you didn't want to—"

"No!" Percy interrupted, so loudly that several people turned their heads. His cheeks burned red, but it didn't dampen his enthusiasm. "No, I'll take it. I am, of course, the most qualified person for the job," he finished off pompously.

"Brilliant," Kingsley smiled widely. "That's a load off my mind. I know I can trust you." He pulled a folder from his briefcase, and while it looked thin, Percy saw a red sticker on the cover that indicated it was bewitched with an Extension Charm. _There could be an incredible amount of work inside there_, Percy thought excitedly. And he'd be responsible for doing it. The redhead was almost salivating. "I've had quite a bit of office cleared for you on Level 2, alongside Magical Law Enforcement. So far I've arranged twenty-five or so people to join the department—"

Percy almost passed out right then and there.

"—but you can draw on the pool of available labor from any non-essential department as you see fit."

"I'll start immediately, sir," Percy said eagerly, clutching the folder to his chest.

"Excellent," the Minister replied. "Feel free to jump in wherever you like. I'd better go talk with the reporters before they hurt someone. Oh, and Percy?" Kingsley's eyes sparkled. "I'd stop by your old office sometime today. Apparently an impressive collection of Ogden's has appeared in there."

"Of course, sir," Percy called after him, not really listening. He was already running his many options through his head. He figured that, after all the old laws were off the books, he'd most likely start with the Ministry offices and their policies for dispensing information about muggle-borns. Then, he'd launch an out-reach program to muggle-borns to try to ease their minds, and to provide as many services as possible for them. Did education fall into his new purview? Because then he'd have to set up summer education, or extra classes, something to make up for the sub-par conditions at Hogwarts. Then, he would—

"Percy."

Audrey's voice interrupted his wild thought process. He looked at her, his blue eyes wide and darting back and forth as new ideas popped into his head every second.

"This_ is_ good," she said, grinning and squeezing his arm. "Just…remember to breathe, okay?"

Percy drew in a desperately needed lungful of air. He stood motionless for a few seconds, and then practically ran for the lift. "I have to go see my new department," he shouted over his shoulder at Audrey, who rolled her eyes playfully. "_My _new department!"

* * *

Seamus was having trouble breathing through the rag he had tied tightly around his nose and mouth. His clothes and skin were darkened with dark gray stone dust, his shoes soaked from the water of the black waves that had leeched inside the prison. And he would take the rag off, but it was the only thing that was keeping the putrid stench of death from overwhelming him. He'd asked around, but no one here knew had to apply a Bubble-Head Charm that could keep out odors.

"Seamus!"

Seamus turned to see one of his coworkers silhouetted in the light from the adjoining corridor. The young man also had a dark rag wrapped around the lower half of his face, muffling his voice and making it difficult to hear. "C'mon, mate, we're taking a break."

"Thank _Merlin_."

The last few hours in the bowels of Azkaban had been hell. The latest chambers they'd uncovered had been full of huge, bright orange spiders and vengeful doxies that had sent half of their workers to St. Mungo's with serious cases of poisoning. The last one, a stoic brunette girl from Beauxbatons, had turned dark blue before they'd even realized that she'd been bitten. That was how numbing the cold was.

So Seamus was so happy to finally get a break that he nearly ran to the hole he'd blasted in the stone, not bothering to look where he was going. That was a gigantic mistake.

Seamus hit the ground with a pained _oomf!_, the filthy stones of the floor digging into his chest. Blood filled his mouth, and he spat it on the ground in disgust.

"You alright, mate?" His coworker called.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered in response as he wiped his mouth and dragged himself to his knees. "I just tripped over—" Seamus broke off, suddenly unsure what he had tripped over. "What the hell?"

He tentatively ran his gloved hand over the floor until he found the deep crack in the stone his foot had caught in. He shoved two fingers into the gap, finding that it extended far down into the floor. "_Lumos_," Seamus whispered, and laid his lighted wandtip over it.

The greenish light illuminated the space between the two split stones, and Seamus could see an entire chamber below them. "There's another room down there!"

His coworker walked over and peered down to into the chamber as well. "We definitely haven't cleared that one yet," he commented. "I'm not sure how we'd get down there…"

An idea popped into Seamus' head, and for the first time since he'd descended into this verifiable hellhole, he smiled. "Clear the room."

"What are you going to do?" the man asked nervously, backing out into the nearest stone corridor.

"Pyrotechnics," Seamus responded as he rose to his feet. Stepping into the doorway, he pulled a small firecracker from his pocket (courtesy of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes) and lighted it, tossing on the ground. As it began to crackle and fizzle into life, he shot a carefully incendiary red-orange jet of light from his wand at it.

_BOOM!_

The room shook as the center of the stone floor splintered and broke, chunks of stone falling into the chamber below. Seamus quickly levitated them out and placed them outside in the corridor.

After a cursory measure of the distance to the next gross, unforgiving floor, Seamus dropped down, landing heavily as he grunted an angry curse.

"What's down there?"

Seamus glanced up through the thick layer of dust and dirt floating through the air. A coughing fit racked his body, and he was forced to tear the rag off his face before he suffocated. Yet again, the stench of death surrounded him and assailed his lungs. Tears streamed down his cheeks of their own accord. "I can't tell," he managed to choke out. But he knew he wasn't going to like it.


	21. Worst Fears

_A/ N: Sorry that it's been so long between updates! Also, sorry for Fleur's accent. _

Chapter 21

Percy sat hunched over his desk, frantically filling about the paperwork which, once properly completed, filed and processed, would create an official child care program for those orphaned during the war. It was one of the many, many projects he'd started since being promoted to Department head a week ago.

And it had been an extremely long, extremely productive week. He'd slept maybe fifteen hours total all week (something he hadn't pulled off since his N.E.W.T. years) and had only physically left the Ministry premises five times when Audrey had basically kidnapped him for meals and sleep.

To conclude, Percy was buried in work, sleep-deprived, dealing with a full twenty recalcitrant young underlings, and he had never been happier in his life.

Not that the week had gone smoothly, at all. Most of his employees had been students at Hogwarts when Percy had been Head Boy, and they already disliked him. But Percy felt that, with quite a bit of help from Audrey, he'd managed to garner at least _some_ respect.

And there had been quite an incident when it was discovered that one of the workers had been a member of the Slytherin house. Percy had returned from a forced lunch out with Audrey to find that his employees were engaging in a juvenile shouting match concerning the loyalty of the so-called 'Slytherin scum'. It had ended in Percy having to transfer two of the instigators and despite his profuse apologies the young Slytherin had decided to quit the Ministry anyway. Percy wondered if this kind of discrimination was going on in other departments as well…

"Percy!"

An excited voice filled the empty room (Percy had been forced, in order to comply with labor laws, to send his employees home) and Percy glanced up to see a very unusual pair standing in the doorway. So unusual, in fact, that Percy was actually prompted to stop scratching away at the parchment and focus his attention on them.

"Hermione, Fleur," he acknowledged them, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. He knew full well about Hermione and the Weasley women's general dislike for Bill's wife, and though they all got along fairly well now, he didn't think that Hermione would be eager to spend her time with the Frenchwoman. Percy understood why—although he supposed that Bill must see something further in her, Percy found Fleur to be rather vapid and conceited. She had certainly come off that way when they had met during the Triwizard Tournament. "May I hel—"

"Percy!" Fleur interrupted, sweeping into the room and coming to stand in front of his desk. Hermione followed in a less flamboyant matter. The Frenchwoman was beaming, her undeniably flawless face (you had to give Bill credit for that) set into a huge, white-toothed smile. But her expression quickly fell into one of concern. "Joo look terreeble!" she gasped.

Percy felt his ears turn red and he self-consciously ran a hand through his hair, trying to straighten it. He hadn't been investing greatly in his personal appearance this week—he imagined he must look pretty bad, although Audrey hadn't said anything about it when they'd went out to lunch earlier.

Hermione let out a disapproving noise at Fleur's outburst. "You look fine, Percy," she said judiciously. "Just a little…tired." She crossed her arms, holding a scroll of parchment to her chest.

"Jour 'air ees so much curlier zan Bill's," Fleur commented idly as she scrutinized him. She looked like she wanted to continue, but Hermione swiftly cut her off.

"That's not what we came here to talk about," she said hastily.

"Then what do you want?" Percy asked, trying to keep a polite voice despite his mounting annoyance at them for interrupting him.

Hermione and Fleur exchanged a glance, their eyes full of excitement and pride. Percy sat up a little straighter, his curiosity peaked. _What is this about?_

"Well," Hermione said, her tone upbeat and proud like she had just uncovered a long sought-after fact in the library. "I was reviewing some of the current laws a few weeks ago and I found some…disturbing things. So I talked to Fleur and we've been working on _this_." She held out the scroll to Percy. "We weren't sure exactly who to bring it to at first, but I thought that, considering the work you've been doing, you'd be a good person to make sure that this is taken seriously."

Both Fleur and Hermione watched him eagerly as Percy slowly unfurled the scroll and began to read the contents. The title, carefully calligraphied in a flowing script, caught his eye first.

THE REMUS LUPIN BILL FOR WEREWOLF EQUALITY

Percy looked back up at Hermione, who looked absolutely ready to burst. "The laws that the Ministry have regarding werewolves are disgusting," she said vehemently, tossing her bushy brown hair over one shoulder. "They basically legalize, no, _mandate_, discrimination. And all of them come from well before Thicknesse took over."

"Eet ees terreeble," Fleur added, shaking her head. "Bill ees not a werewolf, but after Greyback attacked 'im, I zought very much zat he would be. I looked into werewolf rights zen, and zey are _horreeble_."

Hermione picked up the line of thought. "They're not fair, and we can't have that going on in the Ministry, especially after we just fought a war to _prevent_ intolerance. This bill repeals all the current discrimination laws in place and makes it illegal for anyone to discriminate against werewolves." Hermione paused in her speech, taking in a deep breath. "And you _know_ how good a teacher Remus was," she said softly, eyes taking on a sad look. "The only reason he left Hogwarts was that people found out he was a werewolf and pressured him into leaving. That's why we're naming it in his honor." She stopped and sucked in another deep breath. "So, what do you think?"

Percy sat back in his chair, eyes moving over the rest of the writing on the parchment, although his brain wasn't really processing it. Suddenly, all he could think about was the late Professor Lupin, who had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in his N.E.W.T. year, and the best of the seven DADA teachers Percy had endured during his time at Hogwarts. The only one, in fact, that he had actually liked…

_-flashback-_

_Percy sat at his usual desk in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, trying to ignore the blather of the other students going on around him. He idly studied the grindylow tank in the corner of the room, trying to catch a glimpse of the nasty, yellow-eyed creature through the murky waters. _

_He noted with annoyance that class had officially started exactly three minutes ago, and yet Professor Lupin still wasn't here. He bit back a sigh—they'd only had a few lessons with the man, and despite his shabby, unkempt appearance Percy had had high hopes that he'd turn out to be a good teacher. However, it seemed like that wasn't going to happen. Resigned, Percy began going over the D.A.D.A. N.E.W.T. syllabus, which he had memorized, in his head. _

_The door to the classroom swung open and Professor Lupin shuffled in, clutching his briefcase and looking even more disheveled than usual. There was a smattering of concerned mutterings._

"_Are you alright, sir?" Mary, a black-haired Gryffindor, asked, eyeing him uneasily. _

_Lupin just smiled disarmingly, waving off their concern. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine. If you're going to worry," he added in a mockingly grave tone, "worry about your grades." _

_There was a rumble of laughter throughout the classroom, although Percy felt a twist of fear in his gut. _

"_But seriously, relax, everyone," Lupin continued. He placed his briefcase on his desk and then turned back around to face them, clapping his hands together bracingly. "I hope that today's will be a fun lesson. It's entirely practical, so you will only need your wands."_

_Everyone in the class immediately perked up at that. Percy did as well. Particularly in their final year, very few D.A.D.A. lessons were purely practical…_

"_All of you up, and follow me!" Lupin called cheerfully, marching out of the classroom. In an excited flurry, all the students grabbed their wands and followed. They walked through the corridors and into the staffroom. _

_The students all gathered nervously at the back as Lupin closed the door. Percy did a cursory examination of the room, wondering where the creature they would be fighting was hiding. The only article of note in the room was a rather large, imposing wardrobe in the center of the room. Percy swallowed nervously. _

"_Now," Professor Lupin began. "A lot of you are going to think the spell I'm about to teach is insultingly easy, and that's because it is." There were a few surprised blinks from the class. "Normally, I teach this at the 3__rd__ year level, but I found out that you all hadn't learned it yet, so I thought we would set aside a day to go over it." He walked over to the wardrobe and, after a pointed glance to class to get their attention, rapped his knuckles on the wooden door. _

_Percy flinched as there loud _thunk! _from inside the wardrobe, as though something was trying to get out. The entire class shifted back a couple of steps. _

"_Does anyone have a guess as to what's in here?"Lupin asked, eyes gleaming in amusement at their response. _

"_It's a Boggart," Percy said quickly, straightening his glasses. _

"_Correct, Mr. Weasley. But can you tell me what a Boggart looks like?"_

"_No, sir," Percy replied, catching the trick question instantly. "No one can. It takes the form of what the closest person fears most." _

_There was an uneasy murmuring through the class that Lupin didn't seem to notice. "Exactly. Which is why I think it's important that you students learn the spell to deal with a Boggart, because although it requires relatively easy magic, it can be quite terrifying to face one. The incantation you must use is '__Riddikulus'."_

"_Riddikulus," the class automatically chanted back. _

"_Yes, yes, very good," Lupin said, nodding in approval. "But you need a little more than an incantation to finish off a Boggart. As the wording of the spell implies, you must think of your worst fear in comical terms. Make sense?" There were several hesitant nods. "Excellent!" Lupin clapped his hands together. "Who wants to go first?" No one volunteered. Percy swallowed nervously, shuffling his feet. He didn't want to go at all—he found it very difficult to think of something _funny _in general; putting his worst fear in a humorous context would be nearly impossible. "Come on," Lupin urged. "No one is leaving until you've all had a shot at this." _

_Finally, Oliver Wood, who Percy figured was worried about missing Quidditch practice, stepped forward, a stoic expression on his face as though he was stepping up to his own execution._

"_Very brave of you, Mr. Wood," Lupin smiled. "Just step up here, and I'll open the wardrobe."_

_Oliver took his wand out and gave a slight nod to the Professor to show him he was ready. Lupin pointed his wand at the wardrobe, and the dark door swung open. Percy held his breath and drew backward as waves of dark mist billowed out as a shrouded figure—Oliver's greatest fear—stepped into the room. _

_There were several scattered snickers and Percy let out his breath in an exasperated sigh as Oliver's fear came into full view. It was a sneering Severus Snape holding the Quidditch Cup. _

_Oliver shuddered in disgust before raising his wand and casting, "Riddikulus!" Suddenly, a roaring Gryffindor lion leapt from the cup and devoured Snape whole. Oliver grinned in triumph, and there was a smattering of applause. _

"_Well done!" Lupin complimented as a satisfied Oliver returned to the cluster at the back of the room. "Who wants to go next?" _

_Realizing that it wasn't so difficult, students began to step forward. Percy, however, still hung back. _

_He watched as his classmates tried out the spell. Allison turned a fire-breathing dragon into a smoke-puffing lizard, and a Ravenclaw boy charmed the wings off a giant was, causing it to fall uselessly to the ground. All the time, he was slowly edging further and further backwards, hoping that class would end before he had a chance…_

"_Mr. Weasley," Lupin called out. "How about you give it a go?" _

Damn. _Trying not to show his uneasiness, Percy nodded quickly and headed to the front of the room. He tried to think of what would appear as he faced the Boggart. Professor McGonagall, telling him he had failed his N.E.W.T.s? Dumbledore expelling him from Hogwarts? Or maybe it would be even worse—Minister Fudge, telling him he'd never work for the Ministry? _

_Percy had almost reached the wardrobe now, and his steps faltered slightly. Had his fears always been so dependent on grades and jobs? Not that there was anything wrong with that—in fact, he _prided _himself on it. His classmates were still concerned with unimportant things, he was thinking about the future. _

_Still, he could remember a time in his life when he'd had other fears…years and years ago, when You-Know-Who was still alive…_

_He had now reached the wardrobe, and tried to swallow the lump rising in his throat. _Just picture them in a funny hat, or something, _he thought to himself. Although considering Fudge's lime green bowler, he might have to come up with something a little more imaginative if the Minister appeared…_

_Lupin flicked his wand, and the wardrobe once again opened. Percy raised his wand and braced himself as the shrouded figure stepped forward. _

_His blood turned to ice as the dark mist cleared to reveal a black-cloaked figure with smooth, silver mask. _

_The staffroom was suddenly filled with gasps of shock and fear, but Percy barely heard them. He stood dumbly, wand outstretched, unable to remember what he was supposed to do. His stomach had twisted into a tight knot, and his mind had gone completely blank, engulfed by terror. Terrible sounds were drifting into his ears. Shouts, screams, the sounds of crying babies and toddlers… _

_Suddenly, Lupin stepped between him the Death Eater, and the figure vanished to be replaced by a huge, yellow full moon. "Riddikulus!"Lupin casted, and the moon turned into a deflating balloon which flew back into the wardrobe. _

_Percy slowly let his arm fall, chest heaving. As his terror dissipated, he became painfully aware that every one of his classmates was staring at him in silence. His pale skin flushed. _They must think I'm so pathetic, unable to perform simple 3rd year magic.

_Lupin cleared his throat awkwardly. "That's enough fun for one day. You can all take an early dinner." _

_Face flaming, Percy moved to flee the room along with the other students, but he was stopped by Lupin's voice. _

"_Mr. Weasley, could you stay for a moment?" _

_Percy's heart sank. _Brilliant, he probably thinks I'm an idiot. _He turned to face his Professor, extremely alarmed by the fact he suddenly had to force back tears. _

"_I'm sorry, sir," he blurted out as soon as the last student left and the door swung shut. "I know I should have been able to perform that spell. If you let me try again, maybe I could—"_

"_Percy," Lupin cut him off, and the gentleness of his voice threw the redhead. "I didn't ask you to stay so that I could tell you off." _

"_You didn't?" Percy squeaked. He couldn't possibly think of anything else—he had _failed_, at a simple spell, no less. _

_A small smile quirked Lupin's worn-down face. "Of course not." _

"_But it's simple magic, and I couldn't do it…"_

_Lupin sighed, and he sat down on a table. "In pure magical theory, facing a Boggart is not difficult. But if you plan on getting a N.E.W.T. in this class, you're going to have to learn that fighting the Dark Arts involves a lot more than theory." _

_Percy shifted uneasily, wishing very much that there was chair for him to sit in. He felt so awkward and vulnerable, standing here. _

"_You should be proud of your performance today, Percy," Lupin continued, and Percy couldn't help the little noise of disbelief that escaped his voice. It made Lupin frown. "I mean that." _

"_But I couldn't do it," Percy muttered, his blush intensifying and his gaze dropping to the floor. "Everyone else could…"_

"_Everyone else's fears were vapid. Losing the Quidditch cup? Bumblebees? Your fear is real, Percy, and truly terrifying to everyone who lived during the war." Lupin's face was deathly serious. "And that makes it nearly impossible to laugh at. You have nothing to be ashamed of." _

_Percy nodded, gaze still on the ground. A few moments passed in silence, until he found the courage to ask the question prevalent in his mind. "But, sir… I wasn't thinking about Death Eaters when I faced the Boggart. I was thinking about, I don't know, failing my N.E.W.T.s or something." His blush deepened further, knowing full well that that was the kind of fear that Lupin had been mocking only minutes ago. _

_Lupin nodded, eyebrows furrowing as he thought about what Percy had said. "A Boggart is a remarkable thing," he said finally. "It has the ability to reach into your mind and see what you truly fear, even if you cannot." _

_Percy blinked, considering the connotations of that statement. "Then why did it turn into the moon for you?" he curiously asked. _

_Was it possible for Lupin to get even paler? "It's a long story, one that I'm sure you don't have time for, with everything that's going on," the professor replied hurriedly. He stood, brushing off his patchwork robes. "If you want to try the Boggart again, you may, but this doesn't change how I view you as a wizard. You're quite adept with your magic." Percy bit back an undignified grin at the praise. "And now I know you have your priorities straight, at least in your subconscious mind." _

"_Thank you, sir," Percy said, unable to think of anything better to say. _

_Lupin smiled. "I'm embellishing nothing, Percy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go see Professor Snape." _

_Percy watched as Lupin strode out of the room, leaving him alone with the shaking wardrobe. Briefly, he considered opening the wardrobe and facing the Boggart again, but his cowardice won out. He fled the room, trying to keep Lupin's words of encouragement in his mind. _

_-end flashback-_

Percy placed the scroll back on his desk, feeling an uncomfortable twist of guilt in his stomach. He remembered after it had come out that Lupin was a werewolf—he'd agreed completely with those who wanted him fired as a teacher. He'd been so angry with the man for putting his little brother and his friends in danger…

Percy swallowed the lump rising in his throat and nodded tightly. "I'll…er…I'll do my best to make sure this gets passed. It's a disgrace that the Ministry still allows werewolf discrimination to go on." He carefully rolled the scroll back up, trying to keep down his emotion.

Hermione and Fleur beamed at him.

* * *

Seamus wanted to cry.

He couldn't stand it anymore, his head was going to explode, he needed to get_ out_ of here. The smell had become truly crippling, and they were all staggering around nauseous and miserable.

Oliver Wood, who had been working here since the Quidditch season had been postponed, had loudly organized a cycling system—two or three people at a time went up to breathe the sweet, non-toxic air while the rest of them labored underground in the dark bowels of Azkaban. But Seamus had allowed a sickly Beauxbatons boy to take his time outside, and now he was really suffering for his kindness.

So far, they had uncovered the decayed bodies of seven prisoners. They were easily the most repulsive things Seamus had ever seen…and now he felt terrible for thinking that, for those rotting flesh-covered skeletons had once been living, breathing human beings with friends and families who loved them.

"We've gotten everything that's down here," Oliver forced out through the rag tied around his head. "We're going up, mate, come on."

Seamus let out a long sigh of relief, but didn't trust himself to talk just yet. He silently followed the numb procession of workers up the ladder they had conjured back into the main prison chamber, through a series of carefully marked corridors and finally out onto the surface of the island. Seamus tore off the rag, gratefully taking in gulps of cold, clean night air.

Oliver stood beside him, staring up at the starry night sky. The spray from the churning black sea wet their clothes and faces. He shivered.

"What's going to happen now?" Seamus finally asked, wrapping his arms around himself.

"You mean with the…" Oliver seemed to cast about for the right word. "Bodies?" he said weakly.

"Yeah," Seamus mumbled.

"I've heard about these spells," another one of the workers, a woman with short black hair, spoke up. "They're very difficult to perform, and take a while, but they can determine who a dead body was, even if its, you know… like the ones we found," she finished quietly.

"So they can identify them?" Seamus said hopefully. At the very least, these people should get proper burials by their families.

"Yeah," the woman responded. "It's only a matter of time."

* * *

Keep a look out for the next chapter, "The Beetle".


	22. The Beetle

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: I know it's been forever since I last updated, and I'm really sorry about that! Stupid real-life responsibilities keep getting in the way. I'm not abandoning this story, though, no matter how long the gaps between updates are. _

_And I hate to extort people, but reviews do make me write more, hint, hint…_

Chapter 22

Andromeda walked down the shop isle, humming softly to Teddy as she bounced the baby on her hip. Teddy, whose hair was a feathery tuft of turquoise today, was gurgling happily as he feasted his shining green eyes on the assortment of baby toys adorning the shelves around him. Andromeda laughed as, upon catching sight of a colorful owl that hooted and flapped its multi-colored wings as they passed, the baby's hair abruptly turned an even lighter shade of blue-green and he clapped his hands together excitedly. Unable to resist her grandson's excited little smile, she reached out and plucked the toy from its shelf and placed it in the shopping bag floating behind her.

Her own Dora had been like that, too. For the first few years of their lives, Metamorphmagi couldn't control their changing abilities, and Andromeda had learned to decipher how Dora was feeling depending on what her hair or eye color happened to be. Raising Teddy, Andromeda had picked up on his emotions early on, too.

The smile on her face slipped slightly as she thought of her daughter. Dora would never learn what expression on her child's face meant they were hungry, or what shade of red meant that they were upset. She would never hear Teddy's first word, or cheer him on as he took his first steps.

And Teddy would never know his mother, or his father.

It just didn't feel fair sometimes, that a baby as wonderful as her grandson would never be able to talk with his mom or play Quidditch with his dad. She _knew _that freedom required sacrifices, and that Dora and Remus and her Ted gave their lives so that Teddy could live in a free, tolerant world, but it just didn't seem _fair _sometimes that she had to lose her son-in-law and husband _and_ daughter, and that her grandson would have to grow up parentless. Andromeda's eyes welled up.

And then Teddy let out a happy gurgle, reaching out his little arms in an attempt to grab the owl toy bobbing up and down in the shopping bag behind them, and Andromeda quickly shook herself, wiping the tears from her eyes with one hand and then using it to hand the toy to Teddy. He shrieked in joy, immediately shoving one of the wings into his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

_This _was why she couldn't dwell in her own sadness, Andromeda reminded herself. She was going to take care of Teddy and make sure that he knew what his parents died for.

A sharp gasp of shock made Andromeda turn in surprise. A young blond woman was standing at the mouth of the isle, holding an equally blond baby boy in her arms. She was gaping in disbelief at a mobile hanging from a ceiling that consisted of extremely realistic, miniature planets in orbit.

Andromeda grinned slightly. This young woman was probably a muggle-born, and Andromeda knew from her experience bringing Ted here for the first time with Dora that this very magical baby supply store could be a little overwhelming.

"Need some help?" Andromeda offered, and the woman's eyes snapped to her. The older woman tried to put on as reassuring a face as possible, and the younger seemed to relax.

"That would be great, thanks," she said gratefully, taking a tentative step toward Andromeda.

"No problem," Andromeda replied, even though, truly, it was tearing her up a little on the inside. She had always imagined that she'd be giving mothering advice to her own daughter, not to someone she had never met before. But this young woman seemed quite lost, and Andromeda's maternal instinct cried out for her to help. "I'm Andromeda, and this is Teddy," she added, hoisting the baby further up on her hip.

"I'm Magnolia," the blonde responded, returning the smile a little uneasily. "And this is Simon." Her baby, who seemed to be a few months older than Teddy, eyed her with a bright curiosity, and Andromeda's expression of kindness became a little more sincere. "Is Teddy, uh…?" Magnolia glanced between Andromeda and Teddy, blushing.

Andromeda quickly guessed what was on her mind. She must look quite old to have a young baby like Teddy. "He's my grandson," she explained. "His parents passed during the war."

"Oh," Magnolia's face fell. "Simon's father, too."

Andromeda's heart ached. _So many families torn apart_… She cleared her throat and tried to steer the conversation to a lighter place. "Is this your first time here?"

Magnolia nodded, obviously equally eager to get off the subject of lost loved ones. "Yes. I've asked a lot of people, and they say that this is the best place to get baby things…"

"It definitely is," Andromeda agreed. "And it has been for years—this is where I went when I had my daughter. They have great toys, I'm sure Simon would love anything you got him from here."

Magnolia nodded, but as she looked around at the huge collection she seemed unsure about something. "I just…" she suddenly broke off as Simon let out a little laugh of delight as Teddy's owl hooted. Andromeda's jaw dropped as his blonde locks began to turn lime green.

"He's a Metamorphmagus!" she gasped.

"Uh… yeah." Magnolia murmured uneasily, toying with the edge of her blouse.

Andromeda blinked in shock. Metamorphmagi were incredibly rare—what were the odds of running into another one about Teddy's age? "Teddy, too!" she exclaimed in excitement. The older woman briefly imagined the kind of trouble the two could get up to as friends in Hogwarts—pretending to be the other and switching classes, or maybe changing themselves to look like professors and having outrageous conversation in front of the students to confuse them… Andromeda imagined that together they could cause double the trouble Dora had gotten herself into. But somehow, the idea didn't terrify her, instead it excited her.

But Magnolia didn't seem to be pleased at all by this news. She was still eyeing the magical toys with a resigned, uncertain look.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Andromeda questioned.

"I'm just…I'm not sure if I should be buying Simon magical toys," the young woman replied slowly, her expression nervous as she watched her baby make a grab for one of the many colorful, noisy playthings.

"Why not?" Andromeda had read that giving children magical toys when they were little fostered magical development.

"I'm…I'm not sure if I'm going to raise him in the magical world," Magnolia admitted, running a hand through Simon's now neon green locks.

Andromeda's throat threatened to close up. She wished she could say she'd never heard talk like this, but it seemed that lately more and more muggle-borns were uncertain of their safety in the magical world. The news of the breakout from the Ministry holding cells certainly hadn't eased their minds. Andromeda had been beginning to wonder if Molly's son Percy had made the right choice, announcing that to the public. It would be a serious tragedy for the magical community if they lost all the muggle-borns, and it would be exactly what the remaining Death Eaters wanted.

"But what are you going to tell your son?" Andromeda pointed out. "If he's a Metamorphmagus, he definitely will develop magical powers. What if he wants to go to school?"

Magnolia bit her lip. "I know, I know. Maybe when he turns eleven I'll give him the choice, but for now…I just think it will be safer this way, is all." She shifted uncomfortably where she stood, and Andromeda tried to come up with another way to convince her to stay. But the older woman couldn't think of a good argument. "I know this woman, Penelope Clearwater, and she's organizing a system for completely clearing a person from the magical records. It would be so easy…"

Andromeda sighed. "Just don't do anything without thinking, okay?" she finally said.

Magnolia nodded, still seeming distracted. "Thanks for your help," the young woman blurted out. She gathered up her baby and left the store without buying anything.

Andromeda watched her leave and sighed again, wondering how many other lost souls there were out there.

* * *

Percy sat at his desk, watching Audrey, who was sitting cross-legged on top of wooden surface, hazel eyes narrowed in intense concentration as she tuned the static-spewing Wireless she had brought into his office. Percy was nearing dangerous levels of exhaustion (having spent the last few hours shamelessly attempted to force the Remus Lupin Bill into law) and was finding it extremely difficult to focus on what she was saying and doing. Instead, he was quickly becoming lost watching her face, the curves of her lips, the way her curly bounced as she tossed her head…

"Ah-ha!" Audrey let out an exclamation of triumph and sat back as the static suddenly stopped. "I think I've got it." A loud, unpleasant, thumping Weird Sisters song filled the room, and Audrey sighed.

"What is this for, again?" Percy asked tiredly, resting his extremely heavy head in his hand. He was fairly certain that Audrey didn't care for any wizarding bands, and surely she wouldn't burst into his office just to have him listen to one of their songs?

Audrey rolled her eyes and returned to tuning the Wireless. "Jesus, Percy, I've already explained this to you twice. You _really _need to get some sleep."

"I'm perfectly well-rested, thank you very—" Percy broke off, suddenly enthralled with the flight path of a fly buzzing through the room.

"As soon as this is over, you're going back to the flat and getting some sleep," Audrey said firmly. "Even if I have to drag you there and knock you out myself."

Percy shook his head slightly, trying to force his attention from the insect. "Shouldn't you be at work, Audrey?" he inquired pompously. "Instead of threatening me with physical violence?"

Audrey let out a deep, theatrical sigh, shaking her head as she tuned the Wireless. "It's Saturday, Perce. I don't _have_ work today. "

"Oh." Percy blinked in shock. "Maybe you're right…."

Audrey grinned. "I'd better alert the Vatican, because I think a miracle just happened."

Percy straightened indignantly. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean, exactly?" he huffed.

She just shook her head, continuing to twist the knob on the Wireless. Finally, there was a loud clicking noise and Lee Jordan's voice echoed from throughout Percy's office. Percy frowned in confusion. "What's this?"

"I read that the creator of _Potterwatch _was going to start a permanent radio show," Audrey explained. "This is supposed to be his first broadcast. I figured you'd want to listen to it."

"_Potterwatch_?" Percy repeated, feeling a lump rise in his throat. Fred used to work on that show…

"Yeah, now shut up." Audrey leaned his ear forward toward the Wireless, trying to listen to Lee.

"_Maryanne Torpor, Jonathan Radon, Terrance Westfield, Colin Creevey_…"

Percy swallowed hard and looked down at his desk, blinking rapidly. He didn't recognize the first few names, but he knew Colin, and knew that the boy who had trailed after Harry like a puppy had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. He glanced up at Audrey, who was staring pointedly at the wall. Another list of the dead. Percy didn't know what he had expected—humor, maybe? A few much-needed jokes? Certainly not more depression.

Audrey looked down at her watch. "Shit, I have to go. I'm meeting a few of the old Underground workers for lunch."

"Why?" Percy quickly asked, desperate for any distraction from the sprawling list of names.

"We're trying to figure out what to do about the people we've hidden, the ones who don't want to come back," Audrey explained unhappily. "When we figure it out, you'll be the first to know." Leaving the Wireless behind, she left his office.

Percy sighed, idly toying with his quill and wondering if he should take Audrey's advice and just go to bed.

"_And now onto something a little lighter,_" Lee said, clearing his throat. "_Despite many circulating rumors and first-hand accounts from refugees, the truth of the enigmatic Wizard Underground remains elusive._" Percy sat up straighter, leaning in toward the Wireless to ensure he didn't miss a single word. "_This organization is accredited with rescuing, sheltering, and smuggling dozens and dozens of persecuted wizards and witches out of Britain and to safety, but no one who worked on the Underground during the war has come forward to date. Many are begging them to release records of the people they encountered, in order help locate or find closure about the fates of loved ones. However, many muggle-born advocates are urging them to remain undisclosed in order to better protect the identities of muggle-borns who believe they might be targeted by the Death Eaters who are still at-large. This is an especially prevalent fear given the recent statement of ex-Ministry employee Penelope Clearwater, who claimed that a Death Eater tried to use the records of the Ministry Refugee Offices to find her. Ms. Clearwater has already gotten the Ministry to close those offices pending review, and now she is urging Underground workers to keep their identities hidden lest they become targets of the remaining Death Eaters. What do you think about all this, Professor?_"

Percy felt his jaw go slack—which Professor had Lee gotten to be on his radio show? "_I believe that Ms. Clearwater makes a valid point, Mr. Jordan, and I agree fully with her that, until all known or suspected Death Eaters are accounted for, information about muggle-borns and other persecuted people should be kept strictly confidential._" Percy's mouth fully fell open at the sound of Minerva McGonagall's voice. "_But to any muggle-borns considering leaving the magical world who are listening to this, I would urge them to realize that it is not a decision to be made lightly. But if you do decide to leave, you should know that you will always be welcome to come back._"

"_Thanks, Professor. I hope all of the heroes out there who worked on the Wizard Underground take into account what you've said. Onto other news, the suspended Quidditch League is now—"_

Percy reached over and switched the Wireless off. Was this what Penelope had been working on since he'd last seen her? But Percy couldn't deny the logic in her words—were Audrey and the other Underground workers taking this into account? Audrey had said they were meeting for lunch right now—Percy stood and headed to the door, intending to find them and discuss the matter.

Percy hadn't even made it out of his department and into the corridor when he nearly collided with someone. He looked up and was shocked to see a blond witch in bright magenta robes. Percy took a few steps back, deeper into his department, as he recognized her.

Rita Skeeter's eyes flashed behind her jeweled glasses Percy's body before meeting his own, a rather predatory expression on her face that made Percy extremely nervous. He remembered the journalist well from the Triwizard Tournament—he had always been a little annoyed that she didn't deem him important enough to interview at the time, but now, with all the stories she'd written Harry and Dumbledore (which he now knew were false), he recognized that he was probably better off (what was that the phrase Audrey had used?) off her radar.

"Weasley, isn't it?" Skeeter inquired, her eyes flicking up and down his body. "Percy Weasley, Head of the Department of Postwar Affairs?"

"Yes," Percy replied hastily, even though the reporter obviously already knew to whom she was speaking. "And as you can imagine, I'm quite busy, so—"

"Oh, I'm sure you have time for a _quick _interview," she stated, her voice coming in a fast train of words. She smoothly cut Percy off as he tried to slip past her and escape. "A delineation of your department's goals, maybe? A few words to your adoring public?"

"Adoring public?" Percy echoed. He was tempted to capitulate to the flattery and give her an interview, but he was far too familiar with Skeeter's mode of operation—she reeled someone in with a few complimentary, if overly dramatic, pieces, and then used whatever information they gave her to invent some sort of wild, career-killing scandal.

"Well, of course," Skeeter continued. She opened up her pocket and a notebook and lime green quill sprang into the air. "You're a hero, Mr. Weasley, or didn't you know? Bravely revealing the corruption in the Ministry, striving to correct it, willing to lose your job for what you believe in..."

"I…erm…what?" Percy sputtered, finding it difficult to follow her fast-paced, unrelenting speech. But Skeeter was paying any attention to him anyway.

"But, no, no, that's old news…" the reporter murmured to herself, and the quill tore the page it had been writing on out of the notebook and then sat, poised above a fresh sheet, waiting for instructions. Skeeter pressed a perfectly manicured, blood red fingernail to her lips, thinking. Then her eyes lit up with inspiration and she began to dictate to the quill, which was scribbling down her words furiously. "A scarred man, on the outside and inside, bearing the burden of years of misery and regrets spent watching the institution he had given his life to slowly abandoning everything he had ever cared about—"

"I…excuse me?" Percy interrupted, very confused and unsure whether or not he should be flattered.

"And which newspaper are you writing this story for?" A familiar voice, even if it was bearing an unfamiliar cold tone, questioned from entryway of the room. Percy was extremely relieved to see Hermione, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at Skeeter. Now he had a buffer for the madness. "Because I'm certain you're not working for any right now."

Skeeter's eyes narrowed at Hermione, even though she smiled genially. "Oh, I'm sure a number of them would be happy to take me on. After all, I did write a best-selling book—"

"That book was total rubbish and you know it," Hermione spat angrily, although Skeeter appeared to take no notice.

"—and, I just completed an inspirational piece on my path to becoming an Animagus."

Surprise flickered across Hermione's face and satisfied triumph covered Skeeter's, as if there was something very meaningful in those words.

"Well, either way," Hermione continued testily as she overcame her shock, "I think it's time for you to leave. Percy and I have an urgent meeting that cannot be postponed for an interview with an out-of-work reporter. Right, Percy?" Hermione added, shooting Percy an expectant glance.

"Er… yes, of course. A very crucial meeting." Percy caught on and straightened up importantly, gesturing for Hermione to enter his office. They started off, leaving Skeeter alone in the doorway.

"But perhaps you could just tell me one thing, Percy," Skeeter called after them.

"No, he really ca—" Hermione began firmly.

"Is it true that you were the Ministry worker who freed captured muggle-borns and brought them into the Wizard Underground?"

Percy's jaw dropped. _How did she find out? _He briefly wondered if he could just turn around and say 'yes', and then he wouldn't have to do anything else about the matter—but then he remembered Lee's report about the importance of keeping that sort of information secret. And besides, he needed to tell his family himself, not through a story by a half-rate, sensationalist journalist.

"He's not answering any questions!" Hermione snapped, grabbing Percy's arms, dragging him into his office and slamming the door behind them. "That woman is truly unbelievable," she ranted, pacing back and forth. "Harassing people, coming up with accusations and ridiculous questions—"

"Ridiculous?" Percy repeated, slightly stung that Hermione, who he had always respected, didn't believe him capable of helping muggle-borns during Voldemort's reign of terror.

Hermione blushed. "Well, no, I wasn't implying…I mean, of course you would..." her eyes widened. "Did you?"

"No," Percy said hastily, keeping Lee's words in his mind. "No."

"Right." Hermione turned away slightly awkwardly. "Just stay away from that woman, okay? And don't say or do anything important without checking for any beetles within earshot."

"Beetles?" Percy echoed in confusion.

"That's her Animagus form," Hermione explained. "She uses it to spy on people, the foul…" she shook her head in fury and trailed off.

"Well," Percy cleared his throat. "Thank you for the advice, but I assume you didn't come here just to save me from Skeeter?"

"No, I didn't," Hermione said. "I wanted to check on your progress with the Remus Lupin Bill."

Percy sighed. That hadn't been as easy as he'd thought it would be, unfortunately. "I tried to repeal the existing werewolf discrimination laws when I got rid of the muggle-born discrimination put into place by Thicknesse."

"And?" Hermione prompted hopefully.

"And, there was a magically instated hold on laws."

"What?" Hermione frowned.

Percy sighed again, running a hand through his distressingly messy red hair. "It's a little known, little used device instated in the political turmoil of the 15th century. It magically prevents a law from being repealed by normal means."

"Well, get rid the hold of it, then," Hermione said, stamping her foot.

"That's the problem, Hermione, I can't," Percy told her unhappily. "The removal of a hold requires the specific counter-charm of the one used by the installer, or the unanimous approval of the Council of Sapientes."

"The Council of what?"

"Exactly. It was dissolved over two hundred years ago."

"Then get the charm used by the installer and derive the counter-charm," Hermione suggested.

"That was my first thought, but whoever installed the hold, the first one used in three hundred years, mind you, expunged his or her name from the record." Percy rubbed his eyes tiredly. He really needed to get some sleep, and soon.

"So then there's nothing you can do?" Hermione asked, her tone making it very clear that she was not planning on accepting that decision.

"Not quite."

"Well?" she questioned excitedly.

"The same hold was used to prevent the repealing of centuries old laws that preclude anyone of half wizard, half other magical being descent from working at the Ministry." Percy's face twisted into a wry expression. "Does that sound like anyone we know?"

"Umbridge," Hermione said, her face darkening angrily. Percy nodded. "I'm going to get her to tell me that charm." She headed to the door of the office, as if she was planning on marching off and doing it right now.

"I'm afraid that you can't," Percy said, rubbing his temples to try to ease the pounding pain in his head.

"Why not?"

"Because she's imprisoned in the Ministry holding cells," Percy explained. "And after…everything's that's happened, security there has increased tenfold. Only high level Ministry employees are allowed in, no matter the reason."

"High level Ministry employees…" Hermione said slowly, her eyes lighting up. "Like you?"

"Yes," Percy said. He knew that it was going to come to this long ago. No rest for the wicked. "Like me." He picked up his wand from his desk and rolled it in his hands. "I'm going to go see Umbridge."

* * *

_Coming up: Audrey gets some terrible news, Percy descends into the holding cells, and George is faced with something he wasn't quite ready for. _


	23. Legacies

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: I am SO SORRY. I know it's been_ forever_ since I last updated. But I'll be updating more regularly now that summer has started, and I plan on finishing this story before September. Don't forget to review, even if it's just to tell me what a terrible person I am._

Chapter 23

Audrey sat alone at a table in The Three Broomsticks, twirling her wand in endless circles between her fingers. The wooden surface her elbows were resting on was strewn with the remnants of four picked-at lunches; no one had really felt hungry, talking about what they had been talking about. She sighed, dropping her wand mid-twirl and squeezing the bridge of her nose, a mannerism she had picked up from Percy.

The war was over, wasn't it? You-Know-Who was dead, Hogwarts and the Ministry were back in good hands—and yet everything was still pretty crappy. Death Eaters were on the loose, and muggle-borns were frightened and trying to escape the magical world. And to make matters worse, desperate people were searching for their lost loved ones, and she and the few Wizard Underground workers whom she was still in contact with had just decided that they needed to turn down any requests for information about the many people they had helped until the Death Eater threat was gone.

Audrey hated to do it, but she knew it was the right thing. Death Eaters were out there, plotting and biding their time—that was undeniable. And it was her opinion that, after Percy had managed to calm people down in the wake of the Diagon Alley attach, they were planning something big to re-instill fear into everyone's heart. She had come to the conclusion that some bad shit was going to go down, and soon. It was only a matter of time, and what they did to prepare for it.

"Can I get you anything else, sweetheart?"

Audrey glanced up to see the owner of this place, the rather busty Madam Rosmerta, smiling at her. Audrey tried to return the smile, but her heart really wasn't in it. "No thanks." She withdrew a handful of coins from her pocket and placed them on the table. "I think I'll be going no—"

"_Screee!_"

Audrey broke off and instinctively ducked as a large screech owl shot through the pub's open window and, after sweeping artfully around the room (eliciting several annoyed grumbles from the other patrons) landed on Audrey's table, knocking over a half-full glass of Butterbeer.

"Shit," Audrey grumbled, automatically moving to right the glass and push a pile of napkins onto the spreading liquid stain. She temporarily ignored the owl's offered leg and attached scroll, much to its annoyance. It screeched irritably, shaking its message at her. "Hold on," Audrey snapped at it. "I'll get to you in a second, when I've cleared up your mess."

"That's a Ministry owl," Rosmerta commented, her eyebrows rising in interest. "It's probably on tight schedule."

"Oh." Normally, Audrey wouldn't really have minded making a Ministry owl wait a few minutes, but if Percy's behavior was any indication, the Ministry couldn't afford anyone to delay, not even an animal. But then again, Percy's work ethic probably wasn't really representative of the Ministry as a whole. Either way, she quickly untied the scroll and popped a Knut into the pouch attached to the owl's other leg. Immediately, it took flight and streaked out the window, and Audrey inspected its message.

"Well, are you going to open it?" Rosmerta questioned, looking very intrigued. "Are you?" She asked again, when Audrey didn't respond or move.

She recognized the seal delicately imprinted on the parchment. It was the symbol of the disbanded Ministry offices. The offices that had promised to owl her if information about Ayden was found. But the offices were forbidden, pending review, to release information, so why would she be getting this letter…?

Realization hit Audrey like a slap in the face, and she dropped into her chair as cold horror pooled in her stomach and made it impossible to stand.

No information could be released from the Ministry offices without the express permission of the Minister …except in one case.

Informing the closest known relative or associate of a person that they were deceased.

Hands shaking, air refusing to enter her lungs, Audrey struggled to unfurl the scroll. Tears were already blurring her vision as she read the hastily scrawled words there.

"Are you all right?" A distant voice asked her. "What does it say?"

Audrey's hand curled in a tight fist around the parchment as she gasped, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks. She lurched to her feet, staggering away from the table.

"Honey?" Rosmerta called, very worried for the young woman in her pub with the agony-stricken face. "Do you need help?"

But, with a sweep of her cloak and a piece of crumpled parchment fluttering to the ground, Audrey was already gone.

* * *

After a week of toil, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was officially cleaned up. Everything living, dying, volatile, parasitic, burning, likely to start burning, popping, screaming, nausea and/or vomiting inducing or potentially radioactive had been carefully packed up and safely stowed away in the stock room. The walls had been cleared of all graffiti, the holes in the floor sealed, the shelves and counters meticulously repaired. Everything was clean, orderly, neat as a pin and carried the unmistakable feeling of being deeply, utterly wrong.

George sat on the newly swept floor in the center of the shop, staring unseeingly at the boarded up windows. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes just felt wrong, when it was quiet and painfully tired like this, devoid of the usual laughter and chaos that made it the energetic hub of activity it used to be, looking more like Percy's office than the vibrant storefront that had been bright and colorful when every other shop on Diagon Alley was cowering in fear. He just didn't feel right, sitting in the silence and blank, boring orderliness.

But who was he kidding? It wasn't the quiet or the cleanliness that was really bothering him, although that did drive him mental. It was being here, in this shop that they had built together from the ground up, going from experiments in their bedroom to a wildly profitable business together, without Fred.

George stood, angrily stomping around the all but empty room, feeling the insatiable need to do _something _but having no idea what that something could possibly be. Fred was _dead_, _gone,_ and there was nothing in the universe that was more final than those words. What could he do, except sit and wallow in the darkness, like he had been doing for the past months? George shook his head furiously. No. He wasn't going to go back to that. And as much as working in the shop without Fred tore at his heart, he knew that he wouldn't ever give it up. He couldn't. He and Fred had started this project together, and damn it all if he wasn't going to finish it. He could only imagine how furious Fred would be with him if he even considered giving up on their dream.

He sighed, shaking his head. How many times had this exact same stream of thought run through his head? Everything was so much harder, when he was sitting here, alone, with nothing but memories of Fred for company, and no one to put up a carefully constructed mask of 'dealing-with-it' for. But, sometimes, it wasn't a mask. George was pretty sure the happiest he'd been since that terrible night was learning that it had been Percy, _Percy_, who had pulled off the most famous prank in Hogwarts history (and had worked on the Wizard Underground, although George was currently focused on the fact that his childhood hero was actually his _brother, _and the perfect Prefect at that). But then came the inevitable thought that Fred would never know, would never see his uptight brother in this new, groundbreaking light…

There was a slight scraping sound, and George leapt to his feet as someone pushed open to the shop door. Moving reflexively, he ducked behind the nearest shelf and felt in his pocket for his wand.

"Hello? George? Are you here?"

George's muscles relaxed as he recognized Lee's voice, but only so much as it wasn't a Death Eater. Lee was, like Angelina, one of the friends that he'd been steadfastly avoiding since Fred's death. He was sorely tempted to just sit here without uttering a word until Lee took the hint and left, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he could imagine Fred, disappointment in his eyes as he watched his twin withdrawing from those he loved. Taking a deep breath, he stood up.

Lee saw him immediately and grinned ear to ear. "It's great to see you, mate!"

George mustered up a smile. "Yeah."

Lee seemed to sense his lack of enthusiasm, because his own dimmed noticeably. "The shop looks brilliant," he commented, eyeing the shamefully clean and empty room. "You and Ron did all this so quickly?"

"Percy helped," George explained. Only for a few minutes, he amended mentally, before the Death Eaters attacked, but still.

Lee's eyebrows shot up. "Percy?" he said incredulously. "Really?"

A sharp prickle of annoyance shot through George at the implication behind Lee's tone. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"Whoa, mate, calm down," Lee backtracked hastily. "Forget I said anything about it."

Tense silence filled the room, and George let out a slow breath, blowing the air from his nose. "What did you want to talk about?" he finally asked.

"Right." Lee cleared his throat awkwardly. "I don't know if you heard this, but I've been picked up by a Wireless station for a permanent show." George blinked in surprise. "I just had my first broadcast, not an hour ago. I got Professor McGonagall on to talk about muggle-born affairs, can you believe that?"

George smiled. "Brilliant."

"Yeah," Lee agreed. He hesitated momentarily before continuing. "And I was wondering…at least until you get Weasley's back up and running again…if you'd like to work with us, as a regular commentator. Or semi-regular, if you'd prefer that."

George was silent for a minute, until at last he spoke softly. "_Potterwatch_ was… Fred's thing, not mine."

"I know," Lee replied, matching his quiet tone. "But I thought that…maybe you'd want to join us anyway."

"I don't." George said firmly. There was another beat of awkward silence.

"Look, if you don't want to do the show, that's fine. I had to ask. But I thought that… maybe we could go out and get a drink tonight or something? It's… it's been a really long time, you know?"

"Yeah…sure," George replied, and was shocked that he wasn't dreading the event—he was actually looking forward to it.

Lee's grin returned in full force. "Great. I'll stop by later today, okay?"

"Okay." George didn't move a centimeter as Lee, still beaming, waved good-bye and left. He was unsure what to make of this, unsure about how he felt. The shop was soon to reopen, he had just gone out with the whole Weasley family, and now he was going to have a drink with Lee…were things really going back to normal after only a few months?

His feet practically moving on their own accord, George walked into the stock room. Pushing aside the freshly boxed wares, he reached the shop's fireplace, and, grabbing a handful of Floo powder, he stepped inside, thinking of only one thing—the surprising one person he suddenly felt the desperate need to talk to.

He threw down the powder, and, before he even knew it, the words "Ministry of Magic, Department of Postwar Affairs," slipped over his lips.

* * *

"And you have clearance to be here?" The Auror demanded, crossing his arms uneasily over his chest. Percy, even through his exhaustion, recognized the rude, pale-eyed young man who had accompanied him when he'd first came here, right after the Death Eater break-out.

"Yes, I do," Percy replied coldly, trying to push past the young man. Infuriately enough, he was stopped with a strong arm pushing back on his chest. He frowned.

"The holding cells have been _locked down_, in case you didn't notice," the man growled. Percy snorted. Of course he knew, he'd been the one who'd pushed for the extra security. "You need special clearance from the Minister or a Department Head, which _you_ don't have."

"_I_ am a Department Head," Percy responded pompously. "And _I_ give myself permission to enter. Now, lead me to the cell of Dolores Jane Umbridge, if you please?" he demanded, making very certain that his voice didn't come out entirely polite.

The Auror scowled deeply, put he must have realized he'd been defeated, because he whipped around on his heal and stomped off down the underground corridor. Percy, importantly gathering up his cloak and trying to shove away his debilitating tiredness, followed.

The increase in security was incredible. A grim-faced Auror was posted every few paces, wands out and at the ready, watching Percy attentively as he walked by. They passed through several magic screens before they reached the beginning of the cells, each carefully designed to wash away a specific type of deceptive magic.

Finally, they reached the cells. Umbridge, as she wasn't a Death Eater, merely an independently despicable human being, was in security level two, not in the isolated, eight-cell rooms accessible only by Floo that the Death Eaters had escaped from. Percy and the Auror walked for nearly ten minutes, winding further and further underground with every step, before they reached her.

Umbridge was lying Stunned on an uncomfortable looking cot jammed in the tiny cell. Percy recalled Audrey's complaints that the prisoners were kept under constant Stunning, which caused spell damage. But he could find no sympathy for the vile woman spread out motionless before her. As the pale-eyed Auror slowly and meticulously began to lower the spells, Percy wondered why he felt more hatred for her than the many Death Eaters he had been forced to work with during the war—maybe, just maybe, it wasn't despite the fact she wasn't a Death Eater, but because of it. She proved what Percy had always been afraid of—one didn't have to be a Death Eater to be a terrible person.

"_Rennervate_."

The Auror's whispered spell broke Percy from his thoughts, and as he shook his head in a vain effort to clear it, Umbridge began to stir.

She twitched, her eyes squeezing tighter shut as though she was in pain. The sadistic part of Percy wished she was, and the human part of him hated himself for thinking that.

"Give us some privacy," Percy ordered the Auror, who obeyed with a slight nod.

"Just shout if you need help," he said, and slipped outside, leaving Percy alone with the rapidly awakening Umbridge.

"What on in Merlin's name is going on?" the witch muttered, bringing a small pudgy hand to her forehead. Percy reflected that she looked…very different without the bow resting in her hair, or the fluffy pink cardigan, or the golden 'S' locket that always sent a shiver up Percy's spine if he focused his eyes on it. "Minister, is that you?"

Percy stiffened, wondering what Minister Umbridge thought she was speaking to. Fudge? Scrimgeour? Thicknesse?

"No," he replied coldly. "It isn't."

The harshness of his tone seemed to jar Umbridge from her magic-addled brain, and she began to sit up, to register her dank and oppressive surroundings. Percy couldn't repress the wave of satisfaction that rolled through him as she realized where she was, and how far she had fallen. Her bulging eyes slowly scanned the stone walls, the lumpy cot, and finally came to rest on Percy's face. He held his head high, and his chest puffed out importantly.

"Mr. Weasley," she greeted him, and Percy was sickened to hear that her incarceration hadn't rid of her falsely sweet voice. "How nice it is to see you again."

"I can't say that the sentiment is mutual," he spat venomously. Her saccharine words sunk under his skin, sending an uncomfortable, insistent itch running over every centimeter of his body. Then she let out a chiding "tut-tut", just like those that had echoed in the corridors of Hogwarts foreboding bloody detentions and the Ministry courtrooms preceding the malicious ruining of innocent lives.

"Now, now, Percy, is that the proper way to address a colleague? I expect better from such a promising young man like you."

Fury rose in Percy's chest at the patronizing words, fueled by the fact that, a horrifyingly short amount of time ago, they were the kind praise that he had lived to hear from her. "We are _not_ colleagues," he growled. "In case you didn't notice, you were stripped of all authority and sentenced to twenty years in Azkaban."

"Is this Azkaban?" Umbridge asked idly, glancing around her cell. She shot Percy a treacle smile. "Because I've been to Azkaban many times, and I'm afraid I don't recognize this cell."

For some reason, those seemingly meaningless, inconsequential little words deeply unsettled Percy. Or maybe it was the tone they were said in, or the expression on the witch's face; the fake smile, the eyebrows drawn delicately together in sham of polite interest, those features were familiar enough. But the look in her eyes was truly frightening. The bulging orbs were tinted with something that wasn't joy, or anger, or even cruelty—it was something entirely different, that Percy had only seen once or twice for sparing seconds in the eyes of his old boss, Barty Crouch Sr.

There was madness in Umbridge's eyes, a gleam that hinted of pure insanity, and some part of Percy was terrified by it and wanted nothing more than to flee this cell. But he had an obligation to Hermione and Fleur, to Remus Lupin and his possibly lycanthropic son, to everyone unfairly discriminated against by the laws she instated, to stay here and discover the charm she had used to cement them in the magical record.

"Ms. Umbridge," he began stiffly, tamping down his emotions. He was getting really good at that. "Several years ago you placed a magical hold on many laws restricting the rights of various people, including werewolves and those of mixed descent. Those laws are being removed from the books. As head of the Department of Postwar Affairs, I order you to reveal to me the charm that you used to place said hold."

She blinked once, twice, slowly, like a toad waiting to spring on an unsuspecting quarry, and another smile spread across Umbridge's face. "You're a department head? Congratulations, Percy, I've always thought that you were a very good, dedicated worker. You remind me of myself quite a bit."

The air rushed from Percy's lungs faster than as if he had been punched in the stomach. "I," he said, his voice coming out in an involuntary whisper, "am _nothing_ like you. You are an evil, despicable, _sadistic_ person and I am _nothing like you,_" he repeated, briefly wondering whether he was trying to convince Umbridge or himself. The witch continued to smile cheerfully through his abuse, that same hint of derangement dancing in her bulging eyes, taunting him. Percy drew in a deep, shaky breath. "Tell me the charm you used," he demanded again.

Her smile grew even wider and more toadlike, crinkling her maddened eyes. "But Percy, if I did that, then I would be clearing the way for mean, nasty half-breeds to take advantage of good, deserving wizards and witches." Her voice had reached a whole new level of high-pitched and childish, grating against Percy's nerves. He tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly desperately dry.

"It's over, Umbridge," he hissed. "Your career, your influence over the Ministry, is _over_." He paused, clenching his hands into tight fists and fighting to keep his voice calm and even. "You can either tell the charm, or I will have Veritaserum administered and _make_ you tell me." Percy pulled a quill and piece of parchment from his pocket, holding it out to Umbridge. Only then did he notice that his hand was trembling. A near minute of tense silence passed before Umbridge slowly reached out and took the parchment. The relief Percy felt at having her compliance was greatly dampened by the blood-chilling effect of Umbridge's thick fingers brushing his own.

Umbridge raised the parchment, and, bracing it against the stone wall of her cell, wrote down the charm. As soon as she finished, Percy snatched it back from her, eager to make his escape from the frankly disturbing woman.

"Good-bye, Percy," Umbridge's voice floated out from the cell as Percy stepped into the corridor, and the pale-eyed Auror began to reconstruct the magical barrier.

Percy all but made a break for the door, his footsteps echoing off the stone floor as he dodged between Auror guards, keeping his head down, the parchment clenched tightly in his fist, trying fruitlessly to forget everything he had just heard and seen as his heart pounded painfully in his chest.

"Mr. Weasley!"

Percy whipped around to see Commodus Crane walking carefully down another corridor. Percy was surprised to see the man up and about after the serious curse damage he'd been subjected to. The redhead suppressed a shudder at the memories of the man's blackened flesh as they mingled with the visions of Umbridge.

"Mr. Crane," Percy greeted, making every attempt not to let his deep unsettlement bleed through. "I'm, er, I'm glad that you're feeling well enough to come into work."

Crane smiled even as his winced slightly, pressing a hand against his chest. "It's not too bad. I'm just surprised I still have a job. No small thanks to you, I hear."

Percy dragged a hollow smile onto his face, his skin crawling. "Just…doing my job."

"I'm grateful, either way," he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "You have no idea how horrified I am, that it was my fault that those Death Eaters escaped, and Diagon Alley was attacked."

"Mr. Crane," Percy responded with a slight frown, "there's no reason to believe that the attack would not have taken place if the prisoners had not escaped."

"Even so," Crane murmured, casting his gaze downward.

"It was an oversight to allow a prison with dozens of Death Eaters to be guarded solely by one man," Percy said firmly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to—"

"Do you know if the Ministry is planning to move the remaining high-security prisoners?" Crane interrupted, even as Percy started to leave.

"We're in negotiations to have access to the cells in Nurmengard." A wave of dizziness crashed over Percy as he turned sharply to face Crane again. Merlin, he really needed to get out of this place, and to get some sleep…

"That's, uh, that's good." Crane looked thoughtful for a second, and then smiled, nodding gratefully. "Thank you for everything you've done, Mr. Weasley."

Percy just grunted in response, in no mood to appreciate the gratitude. He hurried up the steps, squeezing the parchment in his pocket just to remind himself this disastrous outing had a noble purpose, and pulled open the door and stepping out onto the rainy, gray fields. As the door swung shut behind him, it disappeared, leaving no indication of the place he had just left or what he had just done.

But he knew that he'd be haunted by that saccharine smile and those demented eyes.


	24. Regrets

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me._

_Rated T for language_

_A/N: This chapter is sort of a filler one. There will be more action in the next, I promise. I'm about to go to a three-week writing camp (!) so the next chapters will go up depending on internet availability._

Chapter 24

Several young witches and wizards, looking barely old enough to be out of Hogwarts, were milling around the Department of Postwar Affairs. The department, which was really just three, large, hastily cleared rooms, still lacked any major partitioning or installation of furniture; the only office in it was Percy's painfully neat one, tucked any in the corner with the curtains drawn tight over its pseudo-windows. Other than that, the department was filled only with tables and desks placed at odd angles and piled with ludicrous amounts of papers. Bill found it difficult to believe that Percy could work in such a messy environment—run it, in fact—without suffering some sort of nervous collapse. Even as the redhead watched, the workers scurried back and forth, further buffeting the surfaces and sending the mountains of papers cascading down to the stained carpet floor only to pile them back up even more haphazardly. It seemed like the office had once been neat, but was being gradually worked into a state of complete disorder. Bill imagined Percy, staying long past sundown every night, filing away every loose scrap of parchment and reorganizing the furniture into orderly lines, only to have it corrupted again the next day by his frantic staff. Not that Bill had any sympathy for his anal little brother—he guessed that the office wouldn't be in nearly so bad a shape if Percy didn't work his staff like dogs.

But right now, inexplicably, Percy wasn't in his office, and none of his staff had any idea where he was, although many expressed an earnest, passionate desire that he stay there.

"This is surreal," Charlie muttered. Bill turned around from his position, leaning against the doorframe of Percy's office, to see the next oldest Weasley perched on Percy's desk. "I mean, Percy is head of his own department and he isn't _here_?"

"More surreal than when he got drunk and professed to be a secret prankster?" Bill countered, a small smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. That memory was probably his favorite to date concerning Percy.

A glimmer of amusement sparked to life in Charlie's eyes. "Fine, I'll give you that. But still," he added, sobering a little, "I _know_ something's going on with Percy. You know it, too." Bill nodded reluctantly. After Percy's nonsensical rant the other night, which had brought up far more questions than it answered, he was more sure than ever that Percy was involved in something pretty serious during the war, and was incredibly curious about it. "And we're going to find out about it," Charlie concluded. "For his own good."

"Alright," Bill replied dubiously. "But I'm not sure that ambushing him in his office is our best option."

"We're not ambushing him," Charlie said dismissively.

"Charlie." Bill fixed his little brother with a pointed stare. "We're staking out in his office, waiting for him to come back to work, in full view of all his employees." He smirked slightly. "You've been spending too much time around dragons; you've forgotten the normal avenues of interacting with humans. We're ambushing him."

"No, we aren't."

"_Yes_, we are." Bill had the distinct feeling of devolving to the level of discourse they had before either of them entered Hogwarts. It was liberating—after everything they'd been through, it was kind of fun to act like a kid again.

"_No_, we ar—"

"It, um, it sort of sounds like you are."

Bill and Charlie simultaneously turned in surprise to see a young woman standing a few paces from the door to Percy's office, nervously tugging on a few loose strands of dirty-blond hair that been freed from the braid resting on her shoulder. Her light brown eyes darted uneasily about the room. Bill quickly recognized her.

"Marie-Claire, isn't it?"

The girl, who had been in his year in Ravenclaw, offered him a strained smile of acknowledgement. "Hi, Bill," she rushed on without a pause. "I go by MC now. This is Percy's department, right? And this is his office? Is he the one you're ambushing?" Each word was exhaled on the same tortured breath.

"Yes," Bill replied matter-of-factly, at the same time as Charlie let out a sullen, protesting, "_No_."

MC blinked. "Right…" She shook her head as if trying to jostle her thoughts into order, the escapee locks of hair bouncing frantically. "Is he here? I really need to talk to him."

"Why?" asked Charlie suspiciously, as Bill straightened a little in interest.

"I can't find Audrey," MC replied, biting her lip. Bill remembered that MC had always been cursed with several nervous ticks, which had, apparently, outlasted her N.E.W.T.s. He watched in alarm as crimson blood welled up, staining her pale lips. "I've been looking everywhere, at her flat and at the Reserve and I've been calling and calling but she doesn't pick up, and—" she drew a huge, sustaining breath into her no doubt aching lungs. "And I thought Percy might know where she is."

Bill felt an uncomfortable, cold hand grip his stomach. "She's missing?" _Not Audrey…_ he thought numbly. He had liked her a lot. She was perfect for Percy. If she was gone, his little brother would never get over it, he'd revert back to being completely intolerable… But no, Bill told himself firmly, the time in which people just vanished without a trace was _over_. "Are you sure she's not just…I don't know…gone out shopping or something?" Fleur could disappear for hours under that excuse, although Bill found it highly suspicious that, for the last few weeks, Hermione had gone with her…

MC shook her head vigorously. "Audrey hates shopping. And besides she _knows_ that we all have to be ready at any moment! In case something happens."

Bill frowned as Charlie hopped off of Percy's desk. "What do you—?"

"What's going on in here?"

They all turned to see George standing in the doorway, eyebrows up. His cloak was caked with questionable potions and colorful powders, and there was a bright blue Pygmy Puff clinging desperately to his sleeve. Clearly, he had come directly from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"What are you doing here?" Charlie asked in surprise. Bill echoed the sentiment.

"I came to talk to Percy," George replied, taking a few steps forward to awkwardly stand by the corner of a desk flooded with papers. There was a tone of uncertainty in his voice that Bill was completely unused to, and that put him on immediate alert. George had seemed to be coping so well lately, finally emerging from his old childhood room, talking with them again, going out, working out the shop; he hoped nothing had changed that. But why would he want to talk to Percy?

"So did we," Charlie said, as MC nodded enthusiastically, still yanking on her hair.

George, bemused, turned to her. He opened his mouth—probably to ask who she was—but MC cut him off before he had the chance. "Do _you_ know where he is? I need to talk to him, right now. It's an _emergency_." Her eyes were intense and full of urgency.

"What's wrong?" Bill demanded. A panicky feeling was beginning to rise in his chest. He shoved it down and leveled his voice to a calm, commanding tone. It was a trick he'd gotten really good at, as the big brother of the chaotic Weasley brood. "We can help." Charlie and George nodded their agreement.

MC seemed like she was going to accept the offer, but then her face fell. "I—I'd love that…but you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I _can't_," MC said miserably. "I have to go…look for them, I guess." With an air of pitiable desperation and hopelessness, she turned on her heel and started to leave.

The _crash!_ of a door slamming shut reverberated throughout the department, and the eyes of Percy's workers snapped to the main door. Most of them stopped in their tracks. One particularly shabby looking teenager made a break for it, and George leapt out of his way, stumbling into a desk and sending a cascade of scrolls and files to the beige carpet floor. The Pygmy Puff surfed down the avalanche and went scrambling away, dodging between quick footfalls to hunker down underneath the nearest table.

"_What_," a familiar, booming, pompous voice rang out, "have you all done to _my_ department?"

"We're _working_," one of them said irritably.

"Really?" Bill heard Percy's voice snap back. "Because it _looks_ as if you're tossing about piles of important documents as though they were _confetti_, and judging by the amount of meaningful work you've completed, I am forced to conclude that such an assumption is correct!"

Bill stuck his head out of Percy's office (which was now quite crowded, as George had ducked into it after nearly being run over by the fleeing employee) to see Percy pull his wand from his pocket with one hand (the other was clutching a scrap of parchment like a lifeline) and give the slim piece of wood a dramatic flick. The loose scrolls and files immediately rose into the air and began zooming about to reach their proper location, coming to rest on various surfaces in neat stacks. Papers even shot out of people's arms, and many were swatted in the face in what were (Bill hoped) accidental collisions. As Percy strode toward his office, they dashed and wheeled around him, as if he were the moving eye in a veritable storm of Ministry documents. Bill marveled at the display of complex magic.

And then Percy reached his office, and saw the small crowd that had jammed themselves into it. His blue eyes widened in shock behind his thick horn-rimmed glasses and, immediately, the papers dropped like dead birds from the air.

"What in the name of Merlin are you all doing here?" Percy demanded, hastily stuffing the parchment scrap deep into his pocket. The redhead seemed exhausted—his hair was disheveled, dark circles painted over the pale skin under his eyes, and the beginnings of a stubble beard adorning his usually clean-shaven, gaunt face.

Bill saw Charlie shift awkwardly, shuffling his heavy leather boots. Obviously, this plan had worked out much better in his head. "We came to talk to you," the dragon keeper said, with an uneasy clearing of his throat.

"Oh," Percy replied, a slight fringe of frostiness to his voice. "I see. And it took"—he did a quick head count, pausing minutely when his gaze raked over George—"four of you in some sort of surprise assault to accomplish this? Were you all afraid of approaching me alone? That I might attack if not intimidated by large numbers?" He pushed his way into the office, scowling deeply, and shouldered past Charlie to reach his desk. Ignoring them, he placed the parchment scrap on the desk, smoothing it out with both hands, and then appeared to change his mind and snatched it back up, crumpling it in one fist.

His behavior alarmed Bill slightly—he was far more cross, more obsessive than Bill had ever seen him. Did he know that Audrey was missing?

"We wanted to talk to you about Ayden," Charlie cut in, clearly excepting a strong response.

He wasn't disappointed. Percy froze halfway through forcing his palm across the crinkled surface of his parchment, and MC sucked in a sharp, pained gasp. "How do you know that name?" Percy demanded, whipping around.

"You said it," Bill replied quietly, and Percy's brow furrowed. "That night last week, when we went out together, and you were, you know…"

"Pissed," George supplied helpfully. "Really, really pissed." Percy scowled.

"Anything I said after you plied me with alcohol—"

"Oh, please," Bill snorted. "You got yourself drunk, don't pretend otherwise."

"—cannot be trusted," Percy finished smoothly, glaring. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have _work_ to do—"

"I'm sorry," MC blurted out. "I'm sorry, but this is really important." The fear palpable in his voice won Percy's attention from the enigmatic piece of parchment, which he let flutter from his grip. "I can't find Audrey. I called her, but…"

Alarm flashed over Percy's face. "I thought you lot just had lunch together."

"We did. But we can't find her, and…" she broke off, eyes flittering uneasily over the faces of the other redheads crammed in Percy's office, as if she was unwilling to reveal the source of the crisis in their presence.

"What?" Percy demanded, a steely edge of authority entering his voice.

"They've been raiding the stations," MC finally wailed. "The houses we used. There's no one there, but we _don't know how they knew where to find them_. What if they have inside information? What if…"

"Bloody hell," Percy muttered, his eyes suddenly becoming unfocused and haunted, as if he didn't need to hear the end of MC's "What if…" to imagine what she was implying. Bill's mind reeled, trying to digest this situation, to apply his Curse-Breaking logic to it, to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Percy, what—"

It was George who cut off his question this time, his brown eyes serious and solemn and flickering with an emotion Bill wasn't sure he recognized. Pride? Admiration? There was no way…"Go, Percy," he said.

With a grateful nod, Percy swept out of the office, MC on his heels, leaving Bill and Charlie to stew in their own bemusement and frustration.

* * *

Percy strode purposefully out of his office, not dedicating any brainpower to wondering what three of his siblings had been doing there, or to the fact that his department was shamefully slovenly. He shoved the scrap of parchment (having already memorized the charm Umbridge had written there) into the hands of his nearest employee, barking "Derive a counter-charm for this."

MC hurried after him. "Did you check the Reserve for Audrey?" he demanded. She nodded. "And our flat?" Again, her head bobbed up and down. "And you called her?" Another nod.

"Over and over," she gushed. "I can't find her. It's not like her to just disappear like this. She knows that we need her!"

MC dogged Percy's heels as he rushed through the corridors, his black cloak billowing behind him. He racked his brains for an idea, something, anything, he could do to remedy this situation, but nothing came to mind. Panic was beginning to spread through his body, wiping out the former exhaustion. Where could Audrey have gone? What could they possibly do about the rash of Death Eater break-ins?

Soon Percy's path brought him to the Atrium. The huge room was bustling with activity as people emerged from the roaring green fires in every fireplace, and apparated into existence with a loud _crack!_ A knot had formed around the gouged marble floor where the Magic is Might statue had been removed, speculating about what would replace the grotesque monument.

"Oi!" A loud, familiar voice bellowed behind Percy. "Hey, Percy!"

Percy stopped abruptly, whipping around. Oliver Wood was pushing his way through the crowd, expertly throwing about his burly shoulders to get to where Percy and MC stood. Percy was surprised to see him; they had been roommates, sure, but never good friends. From practically the moment they shook hands at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, they realized the huge gulfs that separated them. Oliver was wildly intense about Quidditch, which Percy viewed as a colossal waste of study time, and Percy was entirely committed to his classes and becoming prefect, which bored Oliver to tears. The best that could be said about their relationship, really, was that they stayed out of each other's ways.

But Percy had lived with him for seven years, long enough to recognize that the Keeper's voice was lacking the heartiness and competitive spirit that it had once possessed in full. Dark circles surrounded his sunken eyes, his skin was abnormally pale and his brown hair was limp. Oliver, Percy reasoned, probably matched his own state of overwork and exhaustion perfectly.

"Yes?" he asked.

Oliver began to riffle through his pockets as he spoke. "We've been cleaning out the old cells in Azkaban," he explained, face set in a stony mask. "There were some…bodies there, and we used some spell to identify them. The Keeper finally located what he was searching for, and pulled out a piece of parchment, offering it to Percy in a Quidditch-gloved hand. "I heard that you're compiling a list of all the war casualities. I thought you could add these names to the list."

Percy slowly reached out and took the parchment, unconsciously unfolding it, wondering how he had managed to saddle himself with such a grim responsibility. "Okay," he replied softly, his eyes dragged unwillingly to the scribbled names as if to the scene of some horrific accident from which he wanted to look away, but couldn't. Somehow, some part of him knew what would be there before he even saw it.

The name Ayden Carter was written there, in near illegible scrawl, adorned with ink splotches and water stains.

An iron fist sunk itself into Percy's stomach, and he sucked in a sharp gasp as a terrible sensation twisted through his insides, jarring and agonizing but not surprising, not really, and that was the most painful part.

This had been coming on for a long time, and now it was here. Suddenly, Audrey's disappearance made sense. Her carefully constructed walls of denial had come tumbling down with the knowledge of Ayden's death.

"Oh, Merlin," MC whispered as she looked over his shoulder at the list. "Not Ayden…"

Oliver Wood stared solemnly at them. "You knew one of them." Not a question. Neither of them responded.

The part of Percy's brain that was always working, always planning, immediately leapt into action. He had to deal with the Death Eater raids on the old safe houses quickly, then find Audrey, console her like she had him after Fred's death, put together Ayden's funeral…

Mostly, though, he was mourning, knowing Ayden had died the death he'd feared: having never been able to apologize to his family. To depart from the world of the living with a million regrets.

But Percy wasn't going to let that happen to him. "C'mon," he said gruffly to MC. "We have work to do."


End file.
